Sunflower Man
by Kaylm Iditra
Summary: Alfred F. Jones only wanted people to smile. He painted the walls with joy and dreams. When his childhood friend finds him, Alfred's life is thrown into a confusing chaos of trying to keep Ivan away from his boyfriend, Arthur, who wants nothing more than to keep Alfred in his line of sight at all times, using any means necessary. Will include RusAme and UKUS in later chapters.
1. Prologue: In Which We Meet the Hero

Oh gosh, I actually posted something! Woah... just a heads up, my chapters will probably be relatively short, perhaps 2000 words per, tops. But, short chapters mean more chapters right?

...right?

If you want to review, TEAR THIS STORY TO SHREDS. Or, you know, leave a nice comment, I'm always low on enthusiasm so comments are nice. But please, criticize this as much as you can, I won't be getting any better without knowing what's wrong~

**WARNINGS**: Will (in later chapters) include lemons, swearing, possibly dark themes and abuse, RusAme and UKUS.

**DISCLAIMER:** Hetalia is NOT mine. (But i do have a copy of seasons 1-3, the movie, two one coin figures, key chains and dolls that i hand-crafted myself. But still not mine.)

* * *

Prologue: In Which We Meet the Hero

Painting has always been my passion, my life's yearning, for as long as I can remember. I doodled my childhood dramas all over the walls of my family's plain apartment in the artsy part of Los Angeles. I marked all of the sidewalks and playgrounds with elaborate chalk swirls and stick people, their simplicity reflecting my own. As the years passed, my chicken scratch evolved, taking the forms of the planets and the stars, but, most importantly, my dreams. My dreams were more than being president or a famous movie star; no, I had bigger dreams than that. I wanted to be the hero of the people, making everyone around me smile with the simple joys of life. That was my dream.

So, I pursued it. I did everything in my power to make people happy, devoting myself to community service, covering a wide variety of lives. Soup kitchens, elderly homes, pet shelters, parks, and if you asked any service staff, they would know who I am. Well, I never gave my name, but they all knew me by my trademark.

Because everyone knew the Sunflower Man.

You see, when I was younger, our kindergarten class took a trip to a farm. While all of the other children pet the goats and chased after the pecking chickens, I stood by the side, mesmerized. At that point, I had just started formulating my dream, my vision of smiles. And there it was. The tallest flowers my five year old eyes had ever seen, the bright petals waving slightly as the miniature suns seemed to smile broadly at me. Sunflowers. I don't remember much else from my early childhood, except for a single, small smile. I forget who it was that was with me in the field of sunflowers that day, but it is definitely my fondest memory. After that day I realized my dream, and pushed myself as far as I could to make others happy.

Perhaps, it was because of my eagerness to make others happy that I began to paint building walls with elaborate and, if I may say so, beautiful murals of sea creatures and waterfalls and space and anything I could think of. But there was always a constant factor in my work. I would always include a sunflower as my signature, never writing my real name. I worked solely at night, so not many could recognize my face, and rumors spread of a mysterious Sunflower Man, who would paint the walls little by little every night until a magnificent scene took shape. When I volunteered, I went by Shakuru; since someone told me that it basically means 'Sun' in my mother's Native American roots, I go with that. Most people couldn't remember that though, and after a bit my nickname evolved to Sunflower and then Sunflower Man. Very few know my real name, the name my English father gave to me:

-Alfred F. Jones.


	2. Chapter 1: Reunion

Hello again! BIIIG BIG BIG BIG thank you to my two wonderful reviewers, LiveLifeLong and Woahisme! (I will definitely remember your comments for my later chapters!)

But you don't want to read that do you? You'd rather have the next chapter. Luckily, I had this one basically finished when I posted the prologue, so here it is!

**DISCLAIMER:** still don't own it. But I forgot to mention I have all three anime soundtracks as well as every Marukaitte Chikyuu released.

* * *

Chapter One: Reunion

"Uhm, excuse me?" startled by the deep voice that called for me, I nearly fell off my ladder before glancing down, paintbrush in hand and balancing precariously a good 6 feet from the ground. A tall man with silvery platinum hair and a faded pink scarf stood below me, a slightly perplexed look on his face. His long beige coat and the edges of my paint-stained overalls rippled slightly in the night breeze, the time somewhere between one and two in the morning. He called out to me again, "Excuse me? Are you the, ah, Sunflower Man?"

Well, that couldn't be good. Was my cover blown? And this mural was almost finished, a peculiar array of planets and stars all made up of various kinds of flowers and leaves. Right in the center I had just started to paint the 'sun', a brilliant, large sunflower. Dang, I hated having to abandon a piece once I got caught...

"Haha, yeah, people call me that," I chuckled half-heartedly, flipping my cap up on my golden blonde hair, adjusting my paint mask to better hide my face. I hate getting caught on the job...

"Would you, ah, c-come down for a minute?" the man stood at the base of the ladder, I could tell his eyes were flitting between me, the ground, and the surrounding alleyway. He sounded... extremely nervous. Well, considering I was going to rabbit out of there as soon as my foot touched the ground, I guess I was pretty nervous too. My hand moved unconsciously to pat the back of my neck, flipping the back of my collared shirt up to mask the sore purple bruise that had formed there, knowing I had others scattered across my back and legs. I stepped down the limited steps and set foot on the ground, pausing to formulate the quickest way to escape. Smiling beneath my mask, I turned to face the stranger.

I nearly had to double-take. The silver haired mystery man towered at least a head taller over me, with beautiful violet eyes, the darkness dimming them to a shade much like my bruises. His broad chest promised muscles and seemed like the sort of build that only appeared on the covers of romance novels. His features were soft and slightly rounded but still handsome, and the smallest of small smiles graced his pale lips. He blinked owlishly at me, as if expecting something. I cocked my head and blinked back.

"Huh?"

When his already small smile disappeared, my gut twisted with an obsessive twitch; I had to make this guy smile again. Maybe if I do something unexpected I could see his lips pull back and those slightly off-white teeth reveal themselves, something unexpected...

Like a hug. Which was the situation I suddenly found myself in. My face pressed into the soft fabric of the man's scarf, the smell musky and reminiscent of alcohol, vodka perhaps. Had the circumstances been different I would have buried my face into his chest and hugged him back, but logic kicked in and I struggled away from the warm body, squirming when the strong arms did not leave my waist. I looked up with wide eyes when a gentle hand tipped my hat back, my hair flick Nantucket springing free. A slender finger ticked once against my glasses, named Texas. Calm violet eyes reflected an eager happiness on a tranquil surface of sorrow, the lashes just slightly longer than an average male's. The night's shadows made his silver hair more of an ashen color, it fit his subtle stature and masculinity. I admit, I felt a little dwarfed by this guy.

"You do not remember me, do you?" mystery man asked, slowly wedging a finger beneath the strap of my paint mask, easing it off of my ear, pausing briefly as if to see how I would react. I blinked in the same owlish fashion he had shown me earlier, my lips twitching uncontrollably into a smile.

"Can't say I do, sorry bub. You from the museum? Or maybe the kitchen?" the guy didn't seem like a pet keeper or the staff of another organization, and there were precious few other places that knew my alias. A teeny tiny giggle escaped his pale pink lips before the saddest and meekest frown appeared, and, with a simple gesture of his hand, my mouth was liberated from my mask, and I snapped from my trance. I pushed back roughly, using my arm to shield my face. Oh Gods, if Arthur found out about this...

A timid hand rested on my arm, cautiously, and a soothing voice with matching steadiness cooed at me, "Please, please do not be alarmed, I wish only to see you once more... Y-you remember, da? That day, in the sunflower field?"

I remained silent for an eternity. I imagine my face must've gone through enough emotions to make a full length feature film. Eventually, I finally managed an extremely weak "Vanya?", before the boy from my memory materialized in my mind, that same shy smile replicated by the childish joy that appeared on the man in front of me. He squeezed me closer, and, through some feat of inhuman strength, lifted me from the ground and spun us in a circle, laughing like a kid on Christmas who just got that one toy they had always wanted. The infectious laughter had me all smiles, as I strained my brain trying to remember more. Flashes of a sickly pale boy appeared, images of us holding hands, playing together on the play structures, watching clouds pass by beneath a shady tree, and, most importantly, the tears and then the smiles we shared among the sunflowers.

"Oh, Alfie! I missed you so much!" the flinch shuddered up my spine before I could control it.

'Alfie'.

That name, the second strike on Arthur's list. One more and my bruises would start multiplying and a pain would manifest in my lower back and spread to an ache so bad I wouldn't be able to stand for about a day. Arthur cut the ties to almost everyone who had the privilege of using a nickname not based on flowers, leaving Arthur as the one person who could call me four different names. One for a warning, three for the strikes. I had only realised this rather early on in our relationship. Arthur calls the shots and does what he likes, he could call me anything he wanted to, and get away with it. Or else. I really didn't have much of a choice when it came to Arthur... When he wasn't interested in me, I suddenly found myself dead to him. That pang of hurt twisted itself deeper into my gut.

But a gentle touch to my cheek sent those dark thoughts scurrying away. Now, my childhood came rushing back to me, and I could relive my fondest time. Ivan Braginsky. Vanya, my Vanya. Vanya came back from Russia. Vanya came back... and he found me. I snuggled my head into his chest, relishing in the quick tempo of his beating heart, before remembering myself.

With a shove perhaps a bit too harsh, my best friend that I hardly even knew anymore found himself well acquainted with the dirty alleyway cement, a baffled, rosy-cheeked expression on his soft face. I gaped at his blissful ignorance in horror, confusing confliction settling in my brain. Arthur. Arthur would be getting back to the house at any minute, if I wasn't there when he arrived...

"Vanya, Vanya I'm so sorry I hit you but I really need to leave," I paced around the alley before dropping down beside my long lost friend. A first time criminal would look less paranoid than I would. I glanced at my wristwatch, flinching a bit at the scab trailing up my arm beneath the strap. 2:27 AM. Arthur would arrive any second, or may already be back at a time like now.

"Listen, listen," I muttered half to myself, fretting hands patting down his chest, worrying at his scarf, the nervous energy outletting itself as I tried thinking on my feet. My mind always left me in these cases; generally, only a mantra of 'Arthur' rebounded inside the walls of my head, it being the only thing I could think of. But now, now something new wedged itself into the chanting. How can I stay in touch with Vanya without Arthur finding him? "Here, I'll give you my cell number, but promise me you'll wait until I call you, okay?" I mumbled almost deliriously, searching my body for scrap paper to write my number on. Understanding fingers set themselves on mine early on into my search, and I looked back up into those unbearably sad eyes, their earlier happiness muted.

"Everything will be alright, Alfie," I nearly choked at how softly he used my second warning name. "Here, you can enter your number directly into my phone, da?" sure enough, those slender hands offered up a somewhat bulky, flip-to-open black cell phone, I recognized the model as at least five years old. With a sudden calmness I didn't think I could pull off, I stopped my panicked maneuvers and accepted it. Switching to autopilot, I hardly even saw myself entering my number into his contact list, which was surprisingly rather long. However, _Alfred F. Jones _rested at the top of the list. I handed his phone back with robotic precision, and smiled unconsciously when his lips pulled up as well. "Would you like me to drive you to your house?"

YES.

"No, but I really have to get going... I'll see you later, okay?" I asked politely, collecting my paints and brushes and stashing my ladder where hopefully no one would take it. I smiled at him as he stood up beside me, and for the briefest moment we gazed at my almost completed painting. I felt a timid arm wrap itself around my outside shoulder, and I smiled up at my friend.

"Of course, I hope very much to see you again. Your artwork is so beautiful, almost as much as you are," he mumbled, nervousness and strength of will combined. He leaned down and pecked me on the forehead, that same rosy-blush color dusting his cheeks. I imagine some of the dust must have fallen onto my own.

"Thank you," I replied just as quietly, and gave him a quick hug. I inhaled as much as I could of his scent and then pulled back, turning quickly to run out of the alley.

The time read 2:43 AM.

Arthur had been home for thirteen minutes.

* * *

YAY! an actual chapter. I can't believe i actually got around to posting something, it's so weird...

I'm going camping with my family for a few days, so I'm sure by the time I get back I'll have the next little piece done for all of my lovely readers :3

Like it? Love it? Hate it's guts? Found an error that is absolutely atrocious that I didn't catch? I won't know unless you tell me~~

Also, is confliction even a word, or is it just conflict? Everyone keeps giving me different answers...


	3. Chapter 2: How to Explain

Oh yay I'm back~ Big thanks to my lovely reviewers: catgirl963, raisuke143, easha, Woahisme, and LiveLifeLong! Your input is much appreciated and your opinions are held in my highest regards. I'm writing this for reviewers and readers like you after all!

Little Warning: Abuse starts now, but this is nothing. I suggest you back out of reading this now if this sort of thing squicks you out! I didn't want to just go full-throttle into such a dark theme so early, but here's your warning! Arthur only gets worse. (Gosh, I'm so mean to him XD hahaha)

**Disclaimer:** So, apparently my copy of season 4 shipped today :D its funny how much of Hetalia I can own, but still not own it...

* * *

Chapter Two: How to Explain to Arthur Kirkland

By the time I marched up to the front door of Arthur's rather lovely estate, I deeply regretted not getting a ride from my friend. My boyfriend must have returned to his home at least half of an hour ago. As I stashed my paints and brushes behind a hanging sheet in the shed, I desperately tried to think up an excuse. How in the world could I explain this to Arthur? He hadn't caught me returning from a project in at least a year, as far as he knew I had agreed to his wishes and stopped 'wasting time and money on ridiculous things that will not pay the bills'. I mean, I knew it to be true. My hobby of giving myself to others never really got me more than happy smiles and 'thank you's, but that never bothered me. After all, it was for those things that I gave myself to the community anyway.

Taking a deep breath, I used my house key to disarm the alarm system, inching the door open with bated breath. Arthur's dark house revealed itself to me bit by little bit; practice the only thing keeping the silence. Breathing evenly, I bent over and removed my broken down tennis shoes, checking the old material over for new holes and telltale paint stains in the dim porch light's glow. I deemed them as clean as they could be and entered the house; socks padding to the shoe rack the only sound in the dark home. I flicked the switch for the outside lights off, and turned back towards the door. Reaching cautiously about, I located the handle and gripped it like a lifeline. With practiced stealthiness, I made to slam the door shut but halted its motion about an inch from colliding with its frame, always a sure-fire way to make sure a door didn't squeak. I turned the handle before gently pushing the door into place, peace of mind filling me as I heard the locks slide back to their resting positions. I rearmed the security and glanced about myself blindly.

I hated this next part the most.

Where was Arthur going to wait for me, ready to flash the light on and seal my fate for the evening? The living room, perhaps? Or maybe at the top of the stairs? No, he always did prefer to make me feel safe until I opened our bedroom door, where he would then jump me from behind. I shivered and lightly fingered the back of my neck, tracing the blurred edges of my bruise. I took a few tentative steps. I'd suffer through any beating Arthur could throw at me, just so long as I could keep painting.

It was moments like these that I wondered why exactly I was still here.

Matthew, I have to stay for Matthew. While my older twin by two minutes travelled to other countries to report on human rights abuse and other front-line news, I had to stay here. Arthur provided the vast majority of Matthew's funding; if I left, who knows in which country with terrors worth reporting my brother would end up? There's absolutely no way I would force that upon him. Matthew remains the only real family member I have left. My mother passed on due to cancer, which in turn lead to my father's alcoholism and disappearance. Aside from a text or two from an unknown number, Matthew and I haven't seen our dad in over eight years. He sent us money to finish high school and enough to pay for our college tuition, but we had to do the rest. Taxes, food and electricity, it was little wonder that we had to look for alternative incomes. Our first year of college came and passed, our financial situation getting worse and worse, but in our sophomore year I met Arthur.

At the time, Arthur Kirkland prided himself on being a sort of gentleman, courting me with flowers and simple but meaningful gifts. He would give me hugs and whisper sweet nothings while he assisted my studies in the library. He honestly made me feel like I suddenly transformed into the most beautiful prize in the world, one that must be praised and worshipped to win. After he graduated, he visited my brother and I on a very regular basis, I suppose that systematic organization remains a constant in Arthur's life. Predictably, it didn't take long for Arthur to figure out that Matthew and I struggled to survive.

When he offered to make our dreams come true, I knew I wanted to stay with him. Matthew could travel the world to make it a better place, and I could paint smiles on the walls and faces of people near me. We finished college with limited student debts, ones we managed to pay off relatively quickly. Matthew earned enough money alongside Arthur's donation and went overseas with his news team, and I relished in the joyous smile he gave me before he cried about how he was an awful person for leaving me back in the states. I just smiled on and told him to write to me as much as he could. I still savor every letter, postcard and picture he sent me. I kept them all.

I had to stay for Matthew, but I also had to stay for Arthur. There were, of course, reasons for his sudden butchery of his gentlemanly nature.

I just want to see him smile at me like he used to, before all of this happened.

With a defeated sigh, I trudged up the stairs, wondering how on Earth I could hide my stained overalls, the only piece of clothing I owned that proved my continuing dedication to painting. I reached the upstairs hallway and noticed that the light was already on in our room. Well, that was strange. I paused as I almost passed the coat closet. Thinking quickly, I stripped out of my overalls, and, after a moment's hesitation, my dark blue boxers, leaving me clad in only a long-sleeved, white button-up shirt that hung to the middle of my rather shapely thighs and my white ankle socks. I folded my favorite denim overalls up with my underwear and stashed them in an empty shoebox at the bottom of the closet. Softly shutting the door, I proceeded down the hall and paused outside of our bedroom, listening in with steady breaths. With practiced gentleness, I rested both hands on the door and pressed my ear against the wood.

Barely audible mumbles jumbled themselves from inside, interrupted only by a small scattering of hiccups. I smiled inwardly; when Arthur was inebriated, he couldn't even remember how he arrived home the next morning, let alone that I wasn't there upon his forgotten arrival. I frowned on the outside though. Arthur had proven on many occasions to be a bipolar drunk, predominantly more violent then apologizing profusely afterwards. With an encouraging breath that failed to vanquish my nervousness, I nudged the door open and waited for my fate for tonight to reveal itself.

Arthur remained sprawled partway on our king-sized bed for a few moments longer, the blood red sheets messed and a few cream pillows resting at peculiar angles. A quick glance around the room illustrated his battle to get undressed; his suit coat lay crumpled near the door, his tie in a perfect noose shape on the floor, and a single grey sock draped elegantly over the chair next to the desk by the corner. On the opposite side of our off-white room, the sliding, two paneled closet barely showed the inside through a small opening on the left side, the top drawer of our adjacent, dark brown antique bureau out, a few rebellious shirts dangling from it's ledge. I refocused back to our bed, in the center of the room with a small, singular, two-paneled window close to the ceiling.

Arthur's sandy, butter blonde hair flipped randomly as he lifted his gaze sleepily towards my direction, green eyes dilated and a deep alcohol rouge stained his otherwise pale face. A smile of relief appeared before being replaced by his typical scowl. My entire being started to tremble as he shakily got to his feet, a half-empty bottle of scotch clutched in his hand. He wobbled in place when he stood at his full height, perhaps a good six inches shorter than me. He glared at me for a moment before opening the mouth that used to worship me like a God.

"Where the bloody hell do you think you've been you -hic- bloody git?" my mind short-circuited. What was my clever excuse again...? Arthur swayed over to me with uneven but sure steps, and I marveled distractedly at the alternating sounds of a boot clack and a foot pad as he approached me slowly. When the scotch bottle entered my downward field of vision, I tried to think of what to do.

"A-Arthur, I-"

I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence, as Arthur's bottle, which looked emptier than earlier, decided to get me rather well acquainted with our light wood floor. The burning sensation in my cheek wasn't too happy about that. I watched through a blur as Arthur dropped his near-empty bottle to the ground with a clatter and plopped with about as much grace as a tranquilized elephant to his knees. I pulled myself together and assumed a knighting position, one knee down and the other one up. I placed my trembling hand onto my raging cheek, feeling momentary happiness when my fingers found only dry skin. Then I realized why the world remained so out of focus: Arthur had knocked my glasses off. After a brief panic attack, I noticed broken-hearted sobs filling the air above me.

"I-I thought you had left me, I didn't know where you -hic- were!" Arthur cried, reaching out for a lifeline. I threw him one and led his searching hands to fist themselves into my shirt material, feeling much like I imagined a mother would. He burrowed his tear-streaked face into my chest, sobbing even harder. I pet his head gently and rocked us back and forth a bit, my free hand tracing easy circles in the small of his back, a maneuver that always calmed him down.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, I'm here now, I just went to take a shower, see? I needed to grab some clean clothes," I soothed him quietly, indicating my lie by gently prying him out of my chest so his intoxicated emerald eyes could squint and try to make sense of it. My lips quivered when he remained silent. Perhaps he was more sober than I had realized?

But, with a content sigh he nuzzled back against me, his arms circling around my waist as he hugged me closer to him. He breathed through my shirt peacefully, and mumbled something that sounded like 'You smell nice', but he spoke with such a drunkenly slurred accent that it made it difficult to tell if he said anything at all. I fumbled my hands beneath us as discreetly as I could, trying to find my lost glasses. Luckily I found purchase and quickly donned my trusty lenses, only to look down at the man still cuddling me like a newborn.

He fell asleep. I smiled widely, as I knew that not only would Arthur not pester me with questions about why I had not returned home sooner, but that my bruises could heal uninterrupted for a little while longer. I scooped up my boyfriend and stood up, meandering under his weight to our bed where I rather unceremoniously dropped him into the awaiting softness. After adjusting the sheets to tuck beneath him, I made quick work of the discarded clothing and the bottle of scotch, and then collected my belongings from the hall closet. I returned with little trouble and stashed my clothes in my section of our bureau, deftly changing into some comfortable cotton pajamas in the process. I flicked off the light and made my way back to the bed and nimbly got under the covers. After removing my glasses and settling down with a sigh, I looked up at the ceiling and reflected on the night's events, fondly remembering the quick kiss my childhood friend had given me after I gave him my number.

Wait. Vanya hadn't given me his... how am I supposed to call him first?

Even if Arthur hadn't beaten me, I wanted to beat myself up.

Now what was I going to do?

* * *

Yay! Did you like it? Was it awful? did I misspell something or forget to finish a sentence? I won't know unless you tell meee~~~


	4. Chapter 3: Morning, Work, and Night

Yay, next chapter! We see a little bit more of Vanya, and no worries y'all, he'll be appearing a lot more in just a little bit.

BIIIIIIIIIIIIIG thankies to all of my fabulous reviewers: YesorNow, Raisuke143, LiveLifeLong, deathray101, and Fynniona! I love you guys for taking a moment and dropping me a comment or two, this story's for you guys after all~~

Nothing big in this chapter, but be prepared for ah... the rating to be upheld next chapter.

**DISCLAIMER:** So, my season 4 arrived two days ago~ haha suckers, I got mine eeeaaarrrrly~~

* * *

Chapter Three: Morning, Work, and Night

The ceiling flickered back into its general shape, appearing much better lit now compared to yesterday's darkness. I stared at it for a while longer, waiting for my limbs to feel reattached to the world and for sudden inspiration to lift me from my cozy resting place and throw me full-throttle back at the living. For now I just rolled over into a cocoon of sheets, reaching sleepily for my glasses on the bedside table. It was never amusing how things didn't want to work with me in the morning. The clitter-clatter of my glasses hitting the ground made me groan in annoyance, my sheet sling tightening as I tried to reach them on the ground without falling out of bed. With luck I managed to graze them bodily and not flick them farther away, so I moved to reset them on my face with ease. Straightening out again to relieve the tension in my warm, deep red covers, I checked my watch with my replaced vision, the world snapping back into clarity the moment I read the time.

8:42 AM.

Not bad, actually. It surprised me that I managed to sleep so long, normally there's the dull aching from whatever events transpired the day previous, or work to be done or something that would keep my stress levels up and my number of hours asleep down. It felt so nice to relax every once in a while.

But, no rest for the wicked or the good, right? With a burst of energy that left me the moment it was used, I flipped the sheets off and sat up swiftly, ignoring the brush of cold air against my toned arms and clothed figure. I raised my hands up towards the sky with systematic practice, opening my white tank-top covered chest to the ceiling and marveling at the grand feeling of my shoulders popping. A couple twists side to side and I deemed my back well stretched, shifting to dangle my legs off the edge of the bed and set my bare feet on solid ground again. I glanced around the tidy cream colored room a bit before noticing a neatly scrawled post-it note on the bedside table.

'Went to work already, there's some fresh ice in the freezer for you' presented itself pleasantly, as if notes like these were left around all of the time. Which on second thought, they were.

Standing up and stretching my back and arms again, I hobbled out the door and stumbled sleepily down the stairs, instinctively going for my trusty good morning beverage maker. Pouring myself a cup of the thick brew, and after a quick addition of a little milk to lighten the taste, I sat down and stared blankly across the room. I yawned. I took another sip of coffee. I wondered desperately about how to get a hold of Vanya, and quickly.

If Arthur left a note, that generally meant he wanted to make sure I was okay, so it would be risky to work on any murals until he decided to stop coming home early. If Vanya met me at a mural, I'm sure that's where he would look when he realized I couldn't contact him first, like I said I would. Or (oh gosh, Heaven forbid), what if he thought I did that on purpose, as a way of rejecting him?

Feeling even worse than most mornings, I finished my coffee and got ready for work, changing into a crisp white button up with rolled up sleeves and slimming black pants with shiny black shoes in the process. I walked into the bathroom and nearly gasped at my face. An ugly purple bruise (that luckily didn't hurt very much) had blossomed overnight on the cheek that had been hit, at least two inches in diameter at the largest part. If I didn't have to worry about looking like a presentable waiter in a family-friendly restaurant, I'd admit that it sorta made me look badass. I checked my watch again, figuring that fifteen minutes of some good icing will at least let the swelling slow down. I unhooked my phone from the bathroom wall charger and headed downstairs again, tapping a little ditty with the clicka-clacka of my shoes as I went, dancing with myself in what resembled a form of joy.

After bounding through the downstairs hallway and back into the kitchen, I set some bread into the toaster under the microwave and set to opening the freezer side of our large refrigerator, using a foot to keep it propped open. At the same time my right hand went for the ice drawer, my left hand fumbled with the drawers beneath the marble counter, searching for the one that held plastic baggies. Grabbing one and shoving some of the chilly ice inside I shut the drawers and freezer quickly, sealing the bag and pressing it to my cheek. Cool relief immediately washed over me and I wandered over to our dark wood antique table and plopped down in a red cushioned chair, blankly staring at the time tick by on my wrist. The scar there lay a faded purple dash, the scab having been scratched off so many times before that it simply remained as a distant memory. Just looking at the wound trailing parallel to my vein made me shiver, that incident from so long ago that would forever be locked in my memories.

A memory I desperately wanted to forget. I hated that time of my life so much, how it hurt me beyond bruises and beatings. That time, when my mother had just passed on, how I had to watch her wither away into a husk of her once beautiful, young self. The cancer had eaten her lungs and her mind, and I could do nothing to save her. I remember all of her pained smiles, up until the day she suddenly had no idea who I was anymore. Her fragility had baffled me, how could my mother, my care taker, have gotten so weak? Where did the loud, outspoken and energetic woman who had taught me to smile disappear to? How could anyone take her away from us, from me? I dealt with the cancer, with watching my mom slowly die, but when I found her body that morning in our living room, hooked up to whirring machines and looking like she has simply fallen asleep, I felt like I was the who who had died.

I looked down at my wrist again, frowning slightly at the thoughts running through my brain. Then I realized the time.

"Shit!" I dropped the bag of melted ice and ran out the front door.

9:31 AM.

"Alfred! You're late!" I gasped, completely out of breath as I stumbled into the back entrance of the restaurant I worked at, a little place owned by two Italian brothers but was really run by the guy standing over me, all dark and angry-like. I closed an eye in a wince as my side cramp intensified, barely managing to lift my head to face my pseudo-boss.

"Hey, sorry Mr. Beilschmidt, I totally forgot the time, it's all my fault, sorry I'm late," I rambled off, straightening up and giving a rather breathy smile, my cheek aching. I knew the sudden increased blood flow probably irritated the sensitive area back to an ugly dark purple; it certainly throbbed obnoxiously at me. I noticed the hitch in Ludwig Beilschmidt's breathing, he probably started rethinking the lecture he had been planning for me. I smiled nervously up at him, admiring distractedly at how smooth he managed to slick back his blonde hair, his bright blue eyes calculating but not necessarily cruel. With a defeated sigh and a hand to his head, he waved me on to work.

"I know it's a bit out of your control... but do you think you could not, err, injure your face?" he asked weakly as he walked on ahead of me into the kitchen, his shoulders tense and an uncomfortable expression on his face. My co-workers knew a little bit about my situation, and some even have tried to help me out of it, but since it's my choice most just give in and offer me a shoulder to cry on if I ever need to. Which, I don't think I've ever used. I smiled cheerily and greeted my other companions, them all smiling awkwardly and trying not to meet my eyes. Throughout my shift I constantly checked the time, feeling hurried and rushed for some reason. At eight o'clock sharp, the end of my work day, I nearly sprinted out of the restaurant, ignoring the distant calls of people demanding I slow down. This antsy-ness felt strange, I felt like I could run a thousand miles an hour and still not be going fast enough.

Switching to autopilot, my legs carried me far away and the city transformed into a blur of neon lights and speeding cars, darkness settling over the hustle and bustle like a calm blanket being fluffed up so that is flutters down smoothly. The uneasiness rush I felt oozed into me from the air, and even with my glasses fogging up I suddenly attained a clarity unknown to me.

I rounded one corner, and then the next, a path created with every sure-footed step. Cross this street, turn left then right; instructions I had drilled into my mind unconsciously. Cars passed me by quickly as the clock ticked away; eight ten, eight eleven. I hung a turn into the next alleyway, registering it as my alley, the one with my hidden ladder and nearly completed mural.

The one in which my childhood crush stood in.

I smiled breathlessly, hands resting on my knees after my sudden exercise. Vanya seemed to be lost in a daydream, his pale face complacent and calm; faraway violet eyes appearing to take in every minute detail of my mural, every gentle brush stroke and color in the dim lighting of the alleyway. I smirked as I stood taller, taking a few steps forward.

"I didn't keep you waiting did I?" Vanya quite literally jumped, startled and panicked. After the initial shock and the blank moment it took for him to recognize me, he smiled widely and rushed up to me like an eager, overgrown puppy that had waited for its master to return after a long day. He stumbled as he very nearly entered my (nonexistent) personal space bubble, a rosy red gracing his cheeks just so as he fumbled with what I imagined he wanted to say. I smiled a winning smile and took an easy step forward, giving the awkward atmosphere a more friendly vibe. He smiled back before shyly wrapping his surprisingly strong arms around my shoulders and drawing me flush against him. The bird that was my heart fluffed its feathers and paced in its cage with newfound energy. I pat his back slowly, rubbing tiny little swirls into him with my fingers.

"I-... I missed you, Alfie," my friend mumbled quietly, his naturally mellow voice a little high and childish sounding. I displayed my winning smile as he pulled back, a lone finger idly brushing my cheek unsurely.

"And I believe you owe me a phone number," I replied casually, my words friendly if not a little sarcastic. The rose color deepened a little and the arms around me disappeared, only to reveal that same bulky phone from our last encounter. Paying no attention to the sound of a car door closing behind me, I took the device and brought forth my newer model, fiddling with the old technology before finding what I wanted and typing it in with skilled fingers. I frowned when I realized 'Vanya' sat at the bottom of my contact list, so with a small, devious smile i tacked on an asterix at each edge of the name. '*Vanya*' now resided even above Arthur's dominating name.

"Uh, uhm... A-Alfie, I was hoping that we might, ah, catch up? P-perhaps later this week, or...?" Vanya trailed off, a smile that didn't manage to hide his worried look on his face. I smiled back.

"Of course! We're best buddies forever, remember?" we smiled brighter in unison at the happy memories that phrase brought back to us. "I'm in a bit of a hurry to get home tonight though, but I'll call you, okay? This time for sure."

Another smile.

Another gentle hug.

"Alright... I will wait for whenever is best for you."

Another goodbye, after another too-short meeting.

* * *

Yaaaay~ did you like that? do you want me to love you even if you didnt? catch a mistake i didnt? Tell me tell me

TEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLL MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

In a review :D


	5. Chapter 4: Punishment

Oh...my effing...

F.

this chapter... IS SO FRIGGIN LONG AND I DIDNT EVEN FINISH WRITING WHAT I HAD PLANNED. what da fuq 3,993 words.

Hope you guys like abuse~ theres a ton... and you know, a nice side of raep, so yeah. Not the best chapter for those who are weak of heart.

Have some tissues or something on hand if you're a sensitive reader, my beta even shed a tear when she read certain parts.

Nothing _horribly_ graphic, but as mentioned above, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

**DISCLAIMER: **I regret (and own) nothing~!

* * *

Chapter Four: Punishment

I sighed dreamily as I looked at my contact list, Vanya's name sitting atop all the rest. Absentmindedly I traced the outer edge of yet another sunflower petal into my sketchbook, one I had hidden away to keep Arthur's trust in my obedience. I love him, I love him not. I sketched another petal.

The front door opened and closed; Arthur must have returned from work. Figuring I had a few moments more to myself, I traced another petal and set my phone down on the table beside me. The TV buzzed aimlessly in our living room, the atmosphere and the plush brown chair I sat in comfortable. I lovingly drew another petal before noticing Arthur's reflection on the rectangular glass table in the middle of the room. I looked up and tried to smile naturally, shifting to close my book slowly, as if that would keep Arthur from knowing what I had been doing.

"Oh, I didn't hear you come in, welcome home, Arthur," I cheerily stated, just the way he liked me to. I reached for the sleek black remote on the side table and switched the TV off (setting my pencil down at the same time) while Arthur stood in the doorway, a contemplative seriousness on his face. I blinked innocently, my smile wavering just a little at his unusual silence. "I-is something wrong? Arthur?"

I set my closed sketchbook down on the small remote table and motioned to stand up. "No, sit down, Alfred," Arthur nearly growled, striding toward me like a predator sneaking up on an unsuspecting bird. Strike one.

"... Arthur...?" I ventured unsurely as he cornered me into my seat, green eyes twitching back and forth, as if trying to detect lies from silence. This was really very strange, normally when Arthur left me ice and a note or the like, it meant he would leave me be for at least a few days.

"You tell me, Alfie. Is something wrong, something you are not... Telling me?" Strike two. His question posed not a request, but a demand. A demand to know the reality as Arthur wanted to see it.

As cliché as it sounded, I felt as if my heart stopped. I wanted it to. If he used that tone, he already knew something. _Could it be, he saw me with Vanya and got the wrong idea?_ I tried my feigned ignorance strategy again, nervousness making me fidget in my seat and look around the room distractedly. For the first time I noticed a crumpled department store plastic shopping bag on the glass table. _When had that gotten there?_

"I don't understand wh-" suddenly, I saw the wall next to me, a stinging pain in my already aching left cheek. Trembles shook me as I slowly refocused to Arthur, my hand ghosting over the area of my latest hit. My knees shot up defensively towards my chest, a form of protection that gave me little assurance. Arthur scowled disparagingly, a bony hand clutching my chin controllably, forcing me to face him. I quivered in his hold. Damn, Arthur was PISSED.

"Do not play your games with me, _Al_," he emphasized my last strike name to make it sound more like a degrading insult instead of the friendly nickname it used to be. I brought my hands down to rest in the air by my knees, all fingers spread far apart to say in the universal language:

"Stop. Wait, Arthur, I can explain, I-" he struck my face again, backhanded this time to hit my other cheek. I flinched a bit, his frail looking hands always fooled me with their hidden strength.

"You better start explaining then," he muttered lowly, fisting a hand in my red tee-shirt and somehow managing to lift me from my seat. I used my pre-placed hands to struggle against his surprisingly strong build, and after a bit I found myself colliding with the glass table as I crashed to the floor. Since when had Arthur been this strong?

I felt those arms that used to hug me comfortably in an embrace flip me over harshly, and now I looked up to the ceiling and the mop of Arthur's butter blonde hair and Arthur's angry face.

And the duct tape.

"N-no, Arthur please, stop! Please, wait!" I thrashed as he straddled me, pinning my arms and body beneath him, the screech of duct tape hurting my ears.

"Time is ticking for that explanation..." he pried a struggling hand free and started taping it to the hardwood floor above my head, row after row until duct tape secured my arm from thin wrist to just past my elbows, and i found that no matter which way I wiggled or flexed my arm, it wouldn't budge. When he grabbed my other hand I started to REALLY freak out.

"Stop! Stop, please! I don't know what you're talking about!" I squirmed when he shifted to dig the majority of his weight into my hip bones, the hard floor pushing at an awkward and uncomfortable angle. The most horrifying part lay hardening by my lower stomach. How could he possibly be getting off on this...? I stilled momentarily, just shocked.

"I was there, you know," another piece of tape spread over my other arm. "When you met that MONSTER," a snarl, and another piece. I couldn't stop myself from thinking, _Are you sure the monster was him?_

"No, you don't understand," I stated calmly and quietly, my matronly voice revealing itself again. A swell of pity filled me at Arthur's insecurity, his thinking I would cheat on him.

A small voice asked me, if it was Vanya, would I leave Arthur for him?

"The hell I don't!" another slap hit my face, my head rebounding on the hard floor from the impact, leaving me feeling quite a bit out of it. As if acting on an afterthought, my glasses were pried forcefully from my face. I didn't see where he put them. "How could you go to someone else? Do I not love you enough? Would you rather have that other man's cock in that slutty hole of yours?" he slapped me again, his voice nearly cracking from his rage and hurt.

I think it was me who hurt more.

"What? I've always been faithful to you! Vanya is my friend, I haven't seen him in years, we just wanted to catch up a little!" it nearly startled me at how loud I raised my voice. I'm not normally an angry person, so I try to only speak louder when I get excited. It was unsettling, to say the least, how much passion I directed for this topic.

"JUST SHUT UP!" Arthur shouted, the screech of duct tape sounding nearly as upset as he did. In a brief moment I wondered why he stripped off another piece, as both of my arms were already rather secured. When he lunged forward, it dawned on me.

"No! Stop stop sto-mmph!" the tape stretched my cheeks painfully, my mouth sealed open beneath the sticky plastic fabric. I squirmed and thrashed on the floor as much as I could when Arthur stood up, looking almost smug, and it was difficult not to see the ideas flash in his mind, even with my now impaired vision. I stilled when he started wandering our spacious living room, shifting furniture around to leave me feeling isolated. He left me lying duct taped to the floor when the scream of a teapot sounded from the kitchen a few rooms down. I tried to calm down as much as a restrained person can, the reduced level of oxygen certainly helping.

I thought back to Vanya, the shy way he clutched me against his chest; his small, happy smile; and the way he genuinely presented himself.

Why was I here, and not with him, where he could possibly love me like I liked...?

Arthur's tall black boots clicked as he walked back into the room, sleek brown pants swishing and crisp white button up tucked in like a gentleman's. In his hand sat a tea cup and saucer, and, as he approached me slowly, I realized it was from the set I had made him when I moved in. Flashing back, I remembered the hours I had taken to learn and craft each cup and dish as best as I could, and, despite my best efforts, I knew they weren't even in thickness or level. To make up for it, I had painted each one with all of the skills I had in me, each sporting a creamy white color with delicate green vines and leaves, swirling and twisting about themselves. I don't know if Arthur knew, but I had also very carefully crafted them so that when the three cups and matching saucers were lined up, they read 'I love you'.

The thought that he would use that set now made me want to cry.

He took a sip, oblivious to or ignoring my turmoil as I lay helpless on the floor, my arms starting to ache. He dragged a chair up close to my head and plopped down in it, taking another sip. He crossed a leg over his knee and I strained my eyes to see his face.

"Now, see how easy that was? If you had not lied to me and snuck around behind my back, I would not have had to be so rough with you, love," he took a sip. I started to distractedly wonder how many more sips it would take before the cup would be empty. "But, Alfred really. How could you be so ungrateful to me? Have you no more love for the man that houses and cares for you, provides you with all that you need?"

At least Arthur sounded calmer now, his tone gentle, as if he was actually wondering what the answers to his questions would be. I keened and tried to tell him that yes, I still loved him, but my words were lost to duct tape and deaf ears, only muffled noises and sad looks. Arthur regarded me lowly, if the chilling atmosphere said anything worthwhile.

There stood a small pause, me trying to look at my boyfriend and captor's face, and he sitting still.

I half choked a yelp behind my duct tape gag and thrashed with renewed vigor when a scalding hot liquid spilled over my face, the pungent and earthy smell telling me what it was. Guess it wouldn't take any more sips to empty that cup after all. Arthur stood again and walked towards the table I had set my phone and sketchbook down on, gosh he seemed restless today. I shook my head side to side, trying to clear the hot liquid from my eyes so I could watch him. As I blinked rapidly and tried to refocus, I heard the tell-tale flap-flap-flap of pages being turned, and I swallowed with dread. The doodles I used to inspire my murals were all in that book, every single one. Page after page after page, the sound of turning paper like Chinese water torture, and I wished my ears were impaired so I wouldn't have to listen. So, it startled me when it drew suddenly silent, painfully silent.

Arthur must've turned to that picture, the sunflower I had so carefully sketched to life not more than twenty minutes ago. I swallowed thickly from the floor, and I almost wished he would keep turning the pages. I flinched and squirmed hopelessly in my bonds when I heard him ripping the page out. Click-clack-click-clack, and then I saw a boot next to my face again. My heart raced and I felt the bird in me fight against the cage of my chest, bashing its head on the walls and fighting to be what I was not.

_Free.._.

"You're rather skilled, Alfie. I didn't know you could waste your time and my money so effectively, this flower is rather beautiful," oh, how I wish I could talk to him. I used the money I earned at work to pay for my pencils and paint and paper. I always remained obedient to him in my own rebellious way. I squirmed as I heard the crinkle of thick, quality drawing paper. Oh, please tell me he didn't rip it... I heard a gentle sigh above me, and I watched as white socked feet emerged from tall black boots. Moments later a weight settled between my slightly parted legs, prying hands stopping them from closing even farther. I squirmed and wiggled uncomfortably as I felt nimble hands going for my belt, thrashing when the fingers grew more aggressive, undoing my jeans and pulling harshly to get them off of my hips.

I knew where this was going. I knew there was very little I could do without hurting Arthur or myself. I knew, but that didn't stop me from struggling as much as I could. Bringing a knee close to my chest to kick him, Arthur chuckled darkly before catching my foot and using the new angle to work my pants off even quicker. I thrashed and tried to kick him anyway, but he just growled again before slapping me once more.

"Now, now, if you just lie back, you know this won't hurt as much as it could, Al," he chided as I did as he asked in my daze, my head ringing from being forced against the wooden floor again. My legs limp from lack of instructions, Arthur made quick work of my pants, then trailed thin fingers up the insides of my now bare, sensitive thighs. I squirmed at the sensations, almost wanting to giggle at the ticklish motions.

My wits about me again, I lifted my head up as far as I could, eyes wide as I tried to see what exactly was happening, my chin resting against my chest. Arthur leaned closer into me, and all mirth left as I felt his hardened (thankfully clothed) length rub against me. I would have gasped were it not for my gag, instead opting to reel my head back with a thunk into the floor. Little jolts of what I desperately wanting to think was not pleasure shot up my spine when Arthur tapped and rubbed my inner thighs, slowly bending over my chest as his fingers traced closer to my dark blue, cotton boxers. Freeing one thigh from the ticklish torture, he brought up a hand to lift my tee-shirt, the thin red material bunching on itself as my abs were revealed. Now, as I fidgeted and shuddered under his ministrations, Arthur pressed his lips to my belly button, sucking ever so lightly on the small amount of pudge there. I squirmed and couldn't help but push into him, my back digging painfully as I curled my spine reflexively. I blushed darkly, trying not to think on how well I responded to my boyfriend, who had learned and mastered my body years ago from our many nights together. I struggled again, forcing myself to pull away as much as I could, trying to push him back from me. To say the least, Arthur did not look pleased with me. I yelped helplessly as he clutched my sides, digging his nails into my overly sensitive flesh. Easing up a little once I had stopped flinching like I was having a seizure, Arthur went for my chest once more, lapping at my defined collar bone as he worked my shirt over my head, forming a rather uncomfortable makeshift pillow when the material wedged against the rows of duct tape. He fondled the sides of my chest, sort of massaging them between pinches and light tugging. I watched him carefully, unsure of how I could get him to stop without pushing him to work me harder.

He lifted his head suddenly, our eyes locking from what I could tell with my blurry vision. I could see him vaguely smile at me, perhaps more of a smirk. Pressing his lips forcefully against my duct tape, Arthur pushed himself closer, moving and rubbing up against my flesh, his clothes silky and funny feeling. Even with my lips covered and my arms restrained, I couldn't quite contain the small groan in the back of my throat. Taking his cue, Arthur immediately pulled back, smiled (I think), and descended lower on my body, trailing kisses and little nips downwards as I squirmed and wiggled, trying hard not to respond but evidently having little luck. I distractedly remembered reading once that even though a body may respond, the perpetrator can still be sentenced for taking the other person non-consensually. I shivered and groaned again when I felt a dexterous hand start palming me to life, and my struggles intensified. Learning my lesson from last time, I tried using both feet to kick him, one of them he caught and the other managing to push his face aside, perhaps a little more forcefully than I intended. He removed his working hand and swatted at my foot, an angry growl escaping him. It was then that I noticed he had my last layer of protection in his hand, the dark blue material almost bringing tears of fear, and knowledge of what was about to come, into my eyes. I lay on the floor, naked save for duct tape and a useless tee-shirt.

Stilling, it suddenly dawned on me just how much control Arthur had over me, over my life. I didn't want to hurt him, but he had no qualms with hurting me. I adjusted my schedule to fit his needs, but he did whatever he liked. I loved him... Did he even love me back? Was I just that prize he had won so many years ago, that now he could do as he likes to me, whenever he liked?

I seriously wanted to cry right then.

But that would be what Arthur wanted of me, to be docile and submissive and run back to him every time without fail like a loyal dog. Well. I am no slave, I'm not some person that needs someone else to live. At that moment, when I lay duct taped to the floor and awaiting my rape, I made a decision.

I was going to be independent.

Strong hands gripped my face, forcing me out of my determined reverie. Arthur's face loomed over mine, eyes narrowed and dark green. I stared back at him, wanting to channel all of the pieces of my shattered heart to wound him, but I found my resolve weakening. There was the man I had devoted myself to, stayed loyal to, loved with all of my heart for five years. I just wanted to be his hero, to see him smile that quivering, mirthful smile he always used when he tried to look stern but was actually laughing genuinely on the inside._ That_ was the smile I wanted to see, the one that belonged to the Arthur I loved.

Not the smirk belonging to the man above me.

"You're all quiet, Alfie... I like this you, so soft and lovable," he nuzzled his face into the curve of my neck as if to make his point, and I guess when I recoiled my head farther away he thought that I enjoyed the feeling. Okay, maybe my neck was just sensitive. I shivered. "Is it so hard to just take me like you used to, love?" he suckled my neck and I couldn't help the moan from escaping through my tape. I did love him. Why didn't he know? I thought I had proven my devotion plenty of times before...

Arthur seemed thoughtful for a few moments; I regarded him warily from my position, trying to ignore the hardness pressing against me down south. Startled when Arthur pulled away from my neck, I watched him unbutton and discard his shirt, revealing pale cream skin and a relatively defined chest. I lay still until he started undoing his pants, I then shifted awkwardly about on the floor, much like a fish; trying to get my legs closed; and to, most importantly, protect myself as best I could. Arthur growled at me when I once more jabbed him with my foot, him opting to grab both flailing limbs with strong hands, forcefully wrenching my legs apart after a moment of tense struggling. I keened and tried voicing my concerns and discomfort once more, the muffled noises reminding me that all efforts would be fruitless. Arthur hefted my legs up again, clutching at the sensitive area behind my knees and shoving them towards my head to make my stomach curl up into the air and I grunted at the awkward and uncomfortable new angle. He let one leg dangle freely for a moment and I briefly wondered what he was going to do with that hand.

That is, until I felt the tell-tale prodding between my cheeks. My face reddened considerably, and my body convulsed and bucked involuntarily, spasms wracking up and down my back at the alien sensations. I never did get used to the foreplay before being taken, even though I generally received during intercourse. Clenching and shivering, I nearly bit my tongue when two digits poked their way inside me, dreadfully dry. Thrashing my head back and forth to try to relieve my pains, I certainly was not allowed the time to adjust before a third finger wedged in with the other two, my insides being scissored and slightly stretched with maximum discomfort. Breathing harshly through my nose and desperately wishing I could rip the tape off of my mouth, I nearly sighed with relief when those hurtful fingers left me, my innards tingling as if on fire even without them prodding at me. I struggled to heave in deep breaths, as if by sheer willpower alone I could force more air into my lungs.

If the fingers hurt, I felt like what came next killed me. Whelping and whimpering and trying my absolute hardest not to scream my guts out through my duct tape gag, I filled my head with happy thoughts, distracting thoughts, good memories, anything to get the pain out of my mind. My thoughts filled with images of Vanya, of his subtleness and shy nature, the complete opposite of what filled me with a fierce ache in my lower back that only intensified when Arthur rocked us back and forth, forcing my stomach to curl as I was forcibly entered. My arms screamed at me to set them free, my lungs burned like an inferno with lack of air, and I wanted with all my heart and soul to not be there any longer.

The sensations shifted from enormous amounts of pain into something akin to pleasure, and I knew that Arthur purposefully aimed for my prostate. I felt like my head was about to loll off my head and I would just be lost to the world in just a few more quick thrusts. I felt my member being brought back to life, heat pooling throughout me as my breaths came shorter and everything just started feeling so damn good. Cracks of fire burst through me every time Arthur rutted into me, and I imagine I clamped down around him just right for he started mumbling like he always does when he's lost in his own bliss. Muffled moans and pleasured groans filled the room, along with the creak and strain of the floorboards as they were mercilessly moved against. Everything was just suddenly so intense, and I could feel my climax approaching when Arthur clutched at me, sending me spiraling away from all of my troubles and this whole situation.

I wanted to be lost.

With an explosion leaving me soaring into darkness, I almost heard the mumbled phrase Arthur whispered into my ear before I went out like a light.

* * *

-gets shot-

wrote that entire monster on my ipod (and like, didn't edit it at all), when I should have been spending this vacation looking at possible college choices. hahaha, sorry mom, do ignore me while I continue writing scandalous and abusive gay fanfiction in the corner.

-teehee-

Oh gosh, do you all hate me now? I won't know unless you review!


	6. Chapter 5: Morning After

Woot, back from Oregon and the next chapter's done! Not a lot in this one, but I'm pretty sure most of my fans will be very happy with what's going to happen!

Does anyone else find it absolutely hilarious that right after I beat and raepd a character, all of my reviewers start telling me they love me? XD ahahaha.

Vanya will be making a much larger appearance very soon! Also, if anyone would like to make a cover image for this story, talk to me please!

**DISCLAIMER: **I wonder how much it would cost me to buy the rights to hetalia...

* * *

Chapter Four: Morning After

Waking up the next morning, I prepared myself for the world of hurt awaiting me. I remember reading somewhere that duct tape can tear off chunks of skin when it's ripped off, and I can only imagine what happened to the soft skin on the underside of my arms. So, as I blinked and flickered back into reality and the waves of my dreams washed away, I was completely shocked at the comfort and warmth that surrounded my body, not feeling more than the light sting and dull ache in the small of my back and in my bruised cheek. Dazed, I just lay in bed and watched the cream colored ceiling blur together like it always did when I didn't have my glasses.

Glasses...

Slapping the bedside table with my hand, as always, I fumbled about as I tried finding them, waiting for the cold metal to grace my fingers. I groaned and closed my eyes, unable to find my lenses. Ah, that's right, Arthur took them from me... Yesterday...

I shivered even though I wasn't cold, pulling our... no, his blood red sheets up over my head, blocking the light from the overhead window from reaching my eyes. I sighed in his scent, which seemed so foreign to me now, even though my own has long since been introduced and mingled into it. How had our pure-hearted love been mangled and mashed beyond recognition into this mess of a relationship? I felt the bubbling tears reach the back of my eyes and it took all of my will not to remember everything that's happened to me since I met Arthur, all of our happy times, graduation, that event that broke him, the beatings that followed...

I just wanted to see him smile again, the way he used to.

I sighed again and decided to go back to sleep, figuring I could call the restaurant later and take a sick day.

"Oh, y-you're awake," startled at the voice, I shot up in bed, thoroughly confused. There he stood, the man who beat and raped me just yesterday. The butter blonde, bashful looking man who held a steaming bowl and a tall glass of water in his hands, the door propped open by his foot. I regarded him coolly; the lines of his body a blur and the details impossible to see clearly. I rubbed at my eyes, wondering if I was perhaps still asleep. "I made you some oatmeal, though I'm sorry it's from an instant packet, we, ah, did not have enough other ingredients."

I felt a smile tug at my lips but swallowed it down quickly. 'Not enough ingredients' meant Arthur had tried cooking and ultimately failed at it, that excuse the only one he could come up with to save his pride. He approached the bed cautiously, if the faltering boot clicks were anything to go by, and set the meal down beside me. It certainly smelled appetizing, with raisins and a heavy dosage of brown sugar (the way I liked it), but I refused to dignify him with a gesture that proved my gratitude. Arthur shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot beside the bed, before remembering something with a gasp and outstretching a hand after searching through his numerous pockets.

The dainty hand I used to hold when we walked through parks and now slapped my face during tantrums revealed the wire frames and glass lenses that always perched on my nose. I glanced up briefly at Arthur before taking his peace offering, setting my security blanket back on my face. I reached for the oatmeal.

"Er, so Alfred, I... Well, you see, I-... Er, how are you feeling today?" I looked back up into Arthur's eyes, those fabulous green eyes that I used to swear I could get lost in. I sniffed my spoonful of oatmeal.

"Well, you know, considering I spent much of last night being taken on the floor, I think I'm just dandy," I paused mid-bite, noticing for the first time a different smell surrounding my mouth. "Is that... Peanuts?"

Arthur's face turned a light pink, just the slightest shade of blush imaginable. "Er, right. What I believe you are smelling is indeed peanut oil. Ah, the people online suggested that using cooking oil would greatly reduce the amount of pain involved in removing duct tape from, ah... skin..." he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, thick eyebrows furrowing and face expressing something akin to guilt. My eyes fought to meet his, testing the genuineness of his words. He fidgeted under my gaze, his shoulders slumping like a cornered child's and his feet rolling restlessly. A hand went to his elbow, a posture I recognized as his form of a self-hug. It dawned on me just how upset he was just then.

I evaluated my options.

1) Lighten up on punishing Arthur; after all, he still held status as my boyfriend and I really do care about him.

2) Make it clear that he has crossed the line, and that I have had enough of being used and abused.

My face set in stony silence, I pierced him as harshly as I could with my eyes. "Hm," and I left it at that, allowing my dead eyes to search the room instead. I could hear Arthur's nervous gulp as he tried to restart the conversation.

"I, well, you know... I didn't want to hurt you..."

"You mean after you slapped me, duct taped me to the floor, called me a slut and then had your way with me? How thoughtful, thanks," I rolled my shoulders, closed my eyes, and tried not to let my hurt seep through my words. I hated making people feel worse than they already did; my life was devoted to smiles, not frowns. Arthur's eyes widened and the breathy intake of shuddering air proved that I got my message across. He bowed his head in what could have been shame, and I mirrored his expression just slightly. Arthur had problems too, and as his companion I knew that I should be as supportive of him as I expected he to be of me. But as of late, I have received nothing but slaps and yelling for my efforts. I thought of my paintings, and how I could not afford to delay more than I have already.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Arthur reaching for my face, a simple motion where he would brush my long, golden bangs back behind my ear, a gesture he always used when he wanted to tell me he felt sorry. Almost on reflex, I slapped his hand back with my own, turning my face away from his reach. The horrifying silence filling the room could murder someone with the tension.

"Don't touch me," I shot Arthur a look; then nearly wanted to take everything I had said and done back, and just apologize to get my heart back into his hands. Arthur, my dear, sweet, strong Arthur who I loved with all my heart looked to be closer to tears than even I. Flinching with guilt but stubbornness, I lowered my gaze to the bowl of oatmeal in my lap.

"Don't you have work to do?"

The stricken look Arthur gave me in response made me realize the reason he stood beside me anyway. Workaholic Arthur had actually taken a day off to comfort me. My lip trembled, an apology forming on my tongue. I clenched my jaw and stared hard into my hand-cooked meal.

Arthur's mouth opened and closed like a fish, but setting into an angry but silent look. "Right then, I guess I'll leave you be," he turned to leave me, tapping the thick black sketchbook on the table beside me twice as he paced angrily out the door. I gasped, and choked back my apologies once more. My sketchbook, the one I had doodled the sunflower in yesterday, sat unharmed and innocent looking.

What did this mean? Could it be, Arthur had a change of heart and would accept my painting now?

Dumbfounded, I sat in bed until long after the front door slammed closed and my oatmeal went cold. I set the bowl down beside me when my watch read ten o'clock in the morning. I got dressed in some plain jeans and a clean white tee-shirt, wandering downstairs to find my phone. The sleek black communication device sat where I had left it yesterday, and I flipped it open with a sigh of relief.

And of course, my battery had died. I shut it with a click and went back up the cold stairwell, my stomach telling me as I ascended that I was going to die shortly if I do not feed myself. I briefly tried to remember if I actually ate anything yesterday besides a little bit of pasta at my lunch break. Then distractedly wondered if my toast still awaited me in the toaster. I smiled at myself.

Walking back into my... no, Arthur's room, I made quick work of plugging my phone into the wall charger and making his bed. I felt like going somewhere today.

My phone buzzed to life, then proceeded to have a vibration seizure as my phone received all of the messages I had missed overnight and this morning. As I squatted beside my phone, I realized that basically every single call and voice mail had come from my buddies at work, particularly Ludwig and the head chef, Francis.

The first one stated in Ludwig's gruff, German voice: "Alfred, your friend Arthur called us just a minute ago saying he would come to pick you up today, however you had already left. Just please, don't get into any more trouble...Und answer your phone!" I chuckled, hearing the deep sigh as Ludwig hung up.

The next one from Francis, the flamboyant Frenchman and wannabe big brother of everyone: "Allo Alfred! Ton ami came by and I sent him off in your direction. Tell me, is 'e ze one who hit you the other day? Talk to me cher!" I chuckled at his off and on accent. Francis had been in the states for quite a few years now, and could speak English remarkably well. He told everyone he just preferred speaking like he just came from his mother country, something about the ladies or what have you.

I decided to ignore listening to other messages, figuring that they were all just asking me why I had not arrived at work yet. I fake-coughed and hacked and tried to bring forth my best sick voice. The phone dialed the restaurant number and I coughed at every ring for good measure.

"Allo! You have reached the kitchen of La Pasta Vita, how may I 'elp you?" I smiled at Francis' friendly voice. I choked up another fake cough and spoke in my best sick whisper into the phone.

"Hey... hey Francis -cough- it's me, Alfred..." I took a moment to cough a few times out of the phone receiver to further enhance my act.

"Alfred? What's wrong? Arthur told us you wouldn't be coming in today, is he not with you?" I nearly choked for real. Arthur had called me in sick already?

"Ah, uh, oh. D-did he now?" I replied normally, completely dumbfounded at this. Francis laughed on the other side of the phone before taking on a serious tone.

"Alfred, you are not actually sick, are you, cher?" I paused before sighing into the phone, my cover blown.

"No... no, I'm not. I just need the day off today," I mumbled in response, my cheeks a secret pink color from being caught in a lie.

"Was it Arthur?"

A moment of silence.

"Huh?"

"Did he hurt you, is that why you can't come today?" I choked a real cough of embarrassment and his unashamedly blatant tone.

"Uh, well he... er..." well, great. Did I want Francis to know the extent of the relationship I wanted to leave so badly? "...Listen, I'll talk to you later, bye!"

I imagine Francis listened to the dead tone for a few seconds before hanging up with a sigh and going back to work. I stared into my phone's dark screen. I dialed a different number this time.

"привет? Ah, I mean, hello?" a gentle voice answered. My smile widened.

"Hey Vanya, it's me. Sorry I didn't call you yesterday, some things came up," a soft hum of understanding was all the response I needed. "So, I was wondering, are you free later today, say, around noon?"

"Ah, well, actually I have some work to do, but I get off at around three, is that fine?" his hopeful tone made me smile just a bit more.

"Of course! Uhm, do you know that park on Bloomfield Avenue?"

"Ah, the Cerritos Regional park, da?"

"Yeah, that's the one. Think you can get there by three thirty?"

"Hm, da. I will see you there, then?" I laughed and smiled at nothing in particular until three o'clock came, and then I ran out the door and towards a bright horizon.

* * *

ah, so cute. At least I think so. do you? no? well, why don't you say so in a lovely little review/comment/whatever it is now? :D

Also, on the note of reviewers, kindly take a moment with me and read through this review from an anonymous 'drew' :"Alfred is too uke...I'm dissapointed we can't block someone from [ ], otherwise I would have blocked you and your too uke Alfred. he's a fucking superpower!"

my response to drew: "While I appreciate you taking some of your time to criticize my work, I do not appreciate how you insulter me for enjoying an uke Alfred. I'm very aware that Mr. America is one of the strongest countries in the world and demonstrates his strength many times throughout the show, however in my work he is but a humble civilian without the super strength of a nation, and as such I decided to give him a more powerful strength of will over body. If you wanted him to throw his boyfriend through a wall or rip his skin off to remove the duct tape bonds, then I apologize for not tailoring my ideas to fit your ridiculous standards of human strength. In regards to him being too much of an uke, that is entirely your own opinion and I would highly appreciate it if you would not force it upon me in the future. I do believe in the description of my story I made it quite clear that Alfred would be on the receiving end in both pairings. Why you would wait until chapter five before commenting that you disliked uke Alfred is beyond me. Perhaps you do prefer Alfred on the bottom, but were unhappy with his lack of struggling (even though he did resist) against Arthur during the scene in chapter four, also understand that Alfred made that choice because he truly does not wish any harm upon Arthur and has loved him for the past five years of his life in what used to be a perfectly healthy relationship, and it is still just hard for him to accept that he really should end that relationship after everything he has experienced. In my opinion, that is a spectacular display of both strength and devotion right there, and is in no way 'weak', as you claim. As Alfred stated in the last chapter as well, he will begin a more aggressive fight against Arthur now, as demonstrated in this chapter. To conclude, I'm sorry you didn't like reading my work, but to want to delete me from the website is like telling me I'm the only person in the world who likes what I've written and I should keep it to myself. But, seeing as I never forced you or anyone else to read my fiction, you really have no argument to keep me from posting. So basically, F U. I love what I'm doing and have no intention of letting your purposefully hurtful words stop me from writing my fiction the way I happen to like it."

-cue reader's laughter- Also, if you don't like what im doing that's okay! You don't have to hide behind the anonymous shield, say it to my face! I don't hate~

Thank you to all of my other reviewers: Purple-Ripples, LiveLifeLong, my two guests, Aya-chan's Alice, and AlbinoOkami!

Also, thank you to last chapter's reviewers: Fynniona, YesorNow, Ashcola17, In The Mix, They're so beautiful, and my other guest!

You guys rock, thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 6: For Others

Ack! I'm so sorry everyone for taking so long to get you this sort of short chapter... My boyfriend dumped me and then everyone decided they didn't like talking to me anymore, so it was reeeeaaaally hard to try to keep my depression from affecting this chapter . This IS supposed to be a happy story after all ^^;;

I'm also going on a week long service project so you probably won't hear much from me, I'm so sorry!

But anyway, here's the next installment! Sorry in advance for it being so short D:

* * *

Chapter Six: For Others

Figuring I had a few hours to spare that I didn't want to spend home alone, I decided to give my time to someone else, in a sense.

The Los Angeles Regional Food Bank building loomed in front of me, but I no longer found it intimidating after the many hours I had spent laboring inside. I worked up my best smile and walked into the brightly lit but empty lobby, dropping a few donation cans into their respective barrels as I went. A sign pointed into the next room, telling me that a food sort was or would be in progress. I waltzed in like I always did, giving a winning smile to the lady clerk who ran the sign-in table. She smiled back.

"Hey there, Mr. Sunflower Man. It's been a long time since we've seen you around here," she commented idly while helping other people sign-in to their respective slots. Her voice betrayed her excitement though, and I couldn't help but smile just a little bit more when people liked seeing me show up to a shift.

"Yeah, I guess you can say I've been pretty busy... But I got the day off today so I figured I'd work a shift over here instead," I picked up a blue gel pen and doodled an oddly colored sunflower into the walk-ins sheet. I'd been working this particular charity ever since I had first moved to LA. Well, back to LA anyway, since my family had moved around a lot when I was younger. I could state every city and every mural I've left behind in my youth if someone asked me to.

"Busy, huh? Now don't you go getting into trouble, ya hear? I like your face better without the bruises," she clucked at me like a scolding mother hen, and I chuckled a nervous little chuckle as my fingers ghosted over my cheek. I had totally forgotten about those recent events already.

"Yeah, you and me both," was my only response as I turned around and sat down at one of the tables set up in the room. Seemed like a school had come down for a field trip, perhaps one of the highschools? The kids were all pretty rowdy and it didn't take much to tell who the popular kids were and weren't. I waved at a lonely looking brunette girl standing in the corner, who blushed and shyly waved back before relocating herself to stand near the gossiping chaperones. Nostalgia filled me as I remembered when I used to be like that girl, always nervous and standing separate from everyone else. No, wait, was that really me? The idea seemed foreign, as it would be difficult to make others smile if I stood apart. No...

A flash image of a kindergarten Vanya appeared in my eyes, the shy face and fumbling hands worrying at his security blanket, the pale pinkish-white scarf a constant in his hands. I smiled to myself at the memory of me waving at him, and he waving back with the same bashful expression as that girl. The image of the large shed we used to play in resurfaced in my mind, and I tried to remember what it meant to us both.

"Alright volunteers, come and follow me into the workroom, and we'll set you guys up with some good ol' cherry sorting!" I groaned but followed the food bank staff into the next room with the rest of the volunteers, trying not to step on high schoolers who dragged their feet with little enthusiasm.

The three-hour shift went quickly, as well as four pairs of gloves per person. Most of the black cherries were not so great, but this _was _the second harvest, so it was a little bit more manageable to pick through the molded and squashed areas. I ended up chatting with some of the nice ladies who also had a hard time sorting the rather disgusting crushed fruit, helping them brainstorm some creative ideas for one of the housewife's soon-to-be thirty year-old daughter's birthday party. As I conversed and sorted through hundreds of berries, I pondered my life.

Here I am again, in this building I'm so familiar with, doing something I have done on so many other occasions, giving myself for others. As I threw yet another cherry away and kept a better one, I thought of the people that would receive this food, of the people who slept on streets or just barely had enough for their families. A good cherry, four bad ones. I pictured the smiles on shapeless faces as they received food, knowing that they could live life just a little bit easier for a while longer. The thought of a Sunflower wearing overalls came to mind, in a form much like a man's, passing out food to the hungry and thankful, smiling masses.

I felt a huge urge to start painting right then.

The booming voice of the head staff called us to finish our last box of cherries and throw away our gloves, indicating the exit doors as other people came in with brooms to clean up the wayward rebel cherries that had sacrificed their life's juices to the floor. I wiped the sweat off my brow and checked my watch. Four minutes to three.

Which park did I say I'd meet Vanya at again? The one that's about a thirty-minute walk from here?

Needless to say, I quite literally ran out of the building.

"Vanya! Heeey!" I called, running up to the figure sitting at one of the various picnic tables around the relatively small park. An ashen haired head turned to look at me, and a toothy smile appeared. The tall man stood up, a soft pink scarf fluttering loosely behind him in the sweltering summer heat. A thin gray tank top donned his toned chest, his pale skin glistening as if he had just finished laboriously working and hadn't had the time to take a shower yet. Long, faded tan canvas pants swished as we walked towards each other and I smiled.

"H-hello, Alfie," Vanya shyly responded, fidgeting a little in the beating sun. He smiled and gave me a little nod. "I would hug you but I'm afraid you would not like that much since I am all sweaty. Will you sit with me?" He indicated the park bench behind him, the shade from nearby trees giving it the perfect cover. I smiled again, wider this time, and bounded over.

We took our seats, he sitting on the opposite side of the table so we could face each other. We smiled for a minute or two in silence, words deemed unnecessary in our momentary peace.

"So, Vanya, your English is actually pretty good, when did you return to the states?" I started off calmly, smiling to dissuade the prying nature of my question. I picked at the table wood absentmindedly, a habit I started long ago to keep my hands occupied. Vanya responded with a gentle giggle and scratched his cheek with a slender finger.

"Ah, well actually, I came to America for college, and I have stayed around ever since."

"Oh, wow, really? That means you've been here for, what, six years now?" Vanya nodded bashfully again at my questions, but his shoulders straightened and he sat up taller.

"Yes, that's right. I studied at a university in Long Beach, but I moved shortly after..."

My eyes widened considerably at this new knowledge, and I leaned a little closer over the table, "Oh hey, I lived in Long Beach after kindergarten! Where did you stay, maybe I know the area?" Vanya's pinkish cheeks darkened a bit and his eyes seemed to have a hard time focusing on any one thing.

"Well, I stayed on campus, so... Ah, but afterwards I moved up to Bay Area, in Sacramento. I do road construction and maintenance, so my work helped me end up in a lot of cities," Vanya smiled once more, his tone easy and relaxed. His expression displayed that kind of parental knowledge, a softness as if telling a child something they should already know. I cocked my head to the left and dropped my smile a bit.

"Oh, really? What towns?" Vanya's blush paled slightly.

"Ah, well I lived in San Francisco, San Jose, Monterey, Fresno, Santa Barbara, and then I came back here," He smiled brightly, his infectious joy bringing my smile back as well.

"Wow! You've been busy!" a momentary silence filled the air as I thought about all the places he had stayed. "Hey, wait a minute... I lived in all of those cities!" I laughed good-naturedly and patted Vanya's relatively moist shoulder. "What a coincidence!"

Vanya gave me the tiniest of all-knowing smiles, gently setting his slender hand on mine. I blinked and stopped laughing all at once, a little confused by this gesture. He easily pulled my hand from his shoulder, opting to clasp it between both of his own hands like a sacred and valuable treasure. "Actually... there was another reason I moved to those places..."

I watched my childhood friend closely as he gazed at my captured hand. The bird in my chest grew restless and flitted about the cage with growing energy. I felt my face heat up with anticipation. "There's... another reason?" I responded breathlessly, thousands of fantasy responses filling my head as I thought of the possibilities that statement could bring.

"Yes, you see... What I really came to America for..." Vanya paused, and I swear I could've throttled him to taking too long to finish his statement. Luckily, he didn't keep me waiting for long. "There was someone I wanted to find, and my job helped me track this person down..."

My heart stopped as my mind rushed to fill in the blanks. Vanya smiled up at me again and he caught my eyes in his gaze.

"There was a memory of my past that I held onto, one that kept me going. Do you remember the walls you painted for me, Mr. Sunflower Man?"

* * *

asgasfdgnadsfhadfh -dies from the self inflicted feels-

ahem. -composes self-

If you have never sorted cherries, it probably would be the worst food sorting experience of your life. just saying. (And when I went sorting, all of that actually happened to me XD lol.)

oh, do you all hate me now toooooo? Tell me in a review!

Also, thank you to my reviewers of last chapter: TheRussianRose, ClosetSkeleton, kitkatt26, purple-ripples, 91RedRoses, Ashcola17, Fynniona, LiveLifeLong, cuzimafreak, and my lovely guest!

Thank you all so much for reading!


	8. Chapter 7: Building a Past

Oh looky here, I'm back! :D did you all miss me? I missed my internet so much that I wrote all of this right when I got home~

Here, we take a moment to travel back. I'm sure you'll all get that though XD

**DISCLAIMER:** No seriously. How much would it cost for the rights to Hetalia...? We need like, a million more seasons.

* * *

**Chapter Seven:** Building a Past

I cried at the far edges of the playground, facing the pale grey wall quietly to make sure no one would notice my tears. My mother had told me to be strong and not to cry as she had sent me off to this horrid place. I fiddled my hands worriedly and swiped at my eyes with balled fists, sniffling and trying to control the water streaming from my sockets. I didn't understand how those other kids could be so happy, shrieking with laughter and behaving much like those jungle animals in all of the books I had read with my family. I envied them, with their perfect lives and joyful smiles, everything about them radiating an innocence I wondered if I was even capable of possessing.

A little boy, a shorter and chubbier one than me, ran around excitedly; holding the hand of a less enthusiastic boy and spouting words from a mouth that appeared incapable of remaining shut. Amazed, I observed the two children. It was like a mirror had gotten attached to one and decided to become a copy of the reflection. So intrigued was I in watching the two, I hardly noticed them drawing nearer to me.

"Al, watch out!" a whiny, barely-even-there whisper called out, and I was thoroughly shocked to see the more vibrant of the pair trip and dive into the tanbark at my feet like a superhero, stray wood-chips flying up at nesting in his golden hair. I blinked and stared, my brain processing what had just happened at a snail's pace.

"And he's safe!" the excited little boy announced like one of those sports dictation people, tilting his head back and laughing brightly while waving his feet and hands like a crash landing plane. The copy ran forward, a furious blush on his face. The one who tripped smiled at me with the prettiest blue eyes I had ever seen, a sparkling yet murky shade that reminded me of the ocean. He stood up at the urging of his twin.

"Al!" the sort of calmer of the two scolded. "You could've gotten hurt!" The smaller one stamped his foot angrily, and I sucked in a shaky breath at his apparent rage. When the other boy started laughing, shock overtook any of my growing anxieties.

"Don't worry so much, Matt!" the one called Al chuckled, using his chubby fingers to start raking tanbark out of his beautiful golden hair. He turned suddenly towards me, and I couldn't help but be a bit wary and fearful of what he would do next. I didn't expect a smile like the ones actors wear on TV. "Besides! He liked it, right?"

I blinked. I stood in the sunlight. I had no idea what to do next. The smile in front of me wavered a bit, and the one named Matt tapped a small hand to his forehead and gave a deep sigh.

"Of course he didn't! Stop being a fool, Al."

Something in me swelled with a feeling I had only seen in other people. The feeling of needing to keep this boy smiling and happy filled me, and already the image of that beautiful smile had started fading away, it's radiance dimmed by others. Blindly tripping over half-formed words, I trembled under their locked on gazes, both of the blonde boys wearing the same perplexed look as if they had not expected me to say anything. "N-no!" I squeezed my eyes closed at how unsure I sounded and how weakly my voice traveled. I clenched my hands and set my face, bursting my eyes open with an intensity unknown to me previously. "I loved it."

A moment of silence dissipated my statement as I stood there with a stubbornly prideful and stony look. The shy one, Matt, gasped and took a step backwards as a hand rushed to his chest and made a cross sign. My determination wavered and my mouth fell open, but no apologetic words came forth.

"Yay! I told you he'd like it!" I glanced back to the louder one, Al. His beautiful smile had returned, and my heart raced faster than any Olympian when he clapped a chubby hand onto my white tee-shirt clad shoulder, lightly brushing against my vibrant pink scarf. "My name's Alfred! But I give you my express permission to call me anything you want if you be my buddy!" excited and wonderful blue eyes met mine, the smile akin to mischievous mirth yet all the while maintaining a shy nature. The boy named Matt stood stock still, and I couldn't read the expression on his face. But, of all my new emotions roaring for attention in my head, the loudest remained a sudden happiness, something I had not felt often in my very short five-year life. Joy.

"M-my name's Ivan. I... I'd love to be your friend."

~{V}~

Sitting at the drop-off area's bench, holding my new friend's hand, I don't think I could have hoped or wished for a better day. Alfred's hand lay gently over mine as we swung our short legs back and forth and talked about space and our futures. Matthew (as I had discovered was his real name afterwards) sat on Alfred's other side, hunched forward a bit and expressionless as I believe he listened in to our conversation.

"And then, after I beat the alien army with the power of my magic paintbrush and give them all the awesomeness of America and paint a picture to com-em-er-ate the battle, I'm going to-" my ambitious friend never got the chance to finish his heroic tale because my older sister burst from the car that just pulled up, tears streaking down her pale and lovely face.

"Oh, Vanya! I missed you so much! Will you ever forgive your big sistra for leaving you by yourself?" she ran up and pulled me into her developing bosom, petting my hair and cooing at me softly. I struggled and attempted to pry myself away from my ever loving big sister. What made her pull back was not me, but my new companion's laughter from right next to us. We both looked at my friend.

"Wow! You didn't tell me you had a big sister, uh, Vanya? Hey, can I call you that?" Alfred laughed cheerily and sent the most boyishly charming smile to my sister. I felt a twang of possessiveness, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to protect my beautiful sister or guard that wonderful smile and keep it to myself alone. I couldn't decide so I just sat there. My sister looked at me, and then her tears and hugging resumed with renewed loving forcefulness.

"Vanya! Vanya, I'm so proud of you! Did you make a friend on your first day already?" I would have told her yes, but I was already having a hard enough time breathing with her shaking us side to side as I got smothered into her shirt.

"Yeah! He made two actually!" my sister looked up from me and over to the two little boys sitting on the rest of the bench. I noticed my mother step out of the car, probably confused at why I had not scrambled into the car like she probably imagined I would have. Alfred smiled even wider, clutching Matthew's hand in his own as the slightly older twin glanced up for the first time. "My name's Alfred! And this is my brother, Matthew! What's your name, miss?"

I don't think I have ever seen my sister smile as widely as she did that day, even many years after that event. "Katyusha, but, please, call me Kat."

"What's this? Have my lovelies made friends?" at this point another lady entered the scene, and I would never admit it aloud, but the dark skinned, raven haired lady that walked up to us may have been even more beautiful than my sister. May have.

"Mama!" Alfred squealed happily, leaping off of the bench and rushing into the folds of the magnificent lady's black skirt, chattering at an unintelligible rate presumably about his day. Matthew trotted over with a little less enthusiasm, but both twins smiled happily when their mother squatted down to their level, balancing by placing slender but powerful hands into their gorgeous blonde hair, so different from her curly night colored hair. The only major similarity between the family was their skin tone, Alfred's closely matching the tan caramel and Matthew's just a few shades paler. The deep oceanic blue remained a constant trait as well, the mother's shade a mix between Alfred's light blue and Matthew's darker color.

"Hey there! Did you have as much fun as you promised me you would?" Both boys readily answered, Matthew mumbling and Alfred obnoxiously rambling again. The mirror images confirmed that they had indeed had fun on their first day of kindergarten. My mother walked over to stand behind Kat and I, the three of us just marveling at the spectacular family chatting right in front of us. "Oh, how rude of me," the mysterious woman chuckled light-heartedly, standing up after ruffling each of the boy's hair. She extended a dainty tan hand, my mother reaching with her own snow colored one. "My name's Rawzi Jones, it's a pleasure to meet my children's first friend. What's your name?"

~{V}~

The other kids laughed and ran around the petting farm, and I watched them from the edges like I had so long ago, a single tear trekking it's lonesome way down my left cheek. It was the only tear I would allow to fall, although so many others wanted to join it. I wandered away from the jovial crowd, wanting to be alone in my sorrows.

Walking any which way, I crouched down by the side of a large field. I didn't pay attention to the growing yellow things above me, figuring it was just some corn or something. A breathy sob racked up through my body, and I covered my mouth to try to stop the tears pushing to get free from behind my eyes. I would not cry. I would not cry.

"Hey Vanya, what's wrong...?" startled, I turned around in a way much akin to a feral cat, scrubbing at my eyes to clear the tears. My best friend for almost a full year stood behind me, looking a bit fearful and worried. He ran towards me when I think he noticed my tears.

I found myself in a tight embrace, Alfred's head buried into my scarf and shoulder as he kneeled next to me. Even though I knew he couldn't see it, I gave him the best smile I could muster. Alfred always told me he loved my smile. "It's okay, Vanya... Just tell me what's wrong, cry your heart out. There's no one else but me."

The tiny crack that broke the dam. What felt like waterfalls erupted from me and I don't think I have ever cried harder. I cried and cried and told my best friend that I hadn't known for all that long but loved more than the world that I had to move back to Russia with my family in less than a month. Alfred clutched me closer, before I heard him start sniffling as well.

We bawled in each other's arms for about an eternity or two, before our tear ducts could leak no more. Squatting together, not even caring about the slowly setting sun or the calls for us to materialize back into our class, we rocked back and forth in the dirt. My unbearable sadness even outweighed my limited concerns to keep my well-worn scarf from touching the ground.

After a contemplative silence, Alfred pulled back from me, wiping his nose with the back of his hand before giving me a stern look. "Mama told Mattie and me a while ago that if everyone could just smile through their sadness, we wouldn't hurt so bad afterwards," I looked up into my best friend's eyes, his new glasses making them look like they were sparkling, even though it was just the water reflecting the light. His lips trembled in a weak smile, his voice quivering and unsure of its own words. "So... we should smile, Vanya. Your smile is the best one I've ever seen... and if you _are_ going to go back to Russia, I want to see you smiling. Promise me that you will?"

My whole body shook and I could hardly contain the coming onslaught of tears. I sniffled again, fighting for control of my breath and expression. It took me a few tries and a bit of encouragement from Alfred, but I managed a smile. A smile I decided I would reserve for Alfred and Alfred only. It was small, a bit timid, but undeniably my best smile. Alfred's lips curled to match mine, and for the first time we looked around where we were.

Alfred gasped in appreciation, or maybe it was me, but the towering flowers glowed in the fading sunlight, bright and full of life. I glanced at my best friend, and I felt a shift somewhere inside me. Watching Alfred gape at the sunflowers, with his wide cerulean eyes and innocence, I knew what had developed in me this past year. Alfred had planted seeds of joy into me, and at this moment after much fertilization and care, they had blossomed into what could only be considered love.

I love my best friend.

It was at that moment that I knew I would love only Alfred, and that I would one day return to America and find him again, no matter what.

* * *

Aw, so cute.

At least, I think so.

Basfhasfhadfh, I had no idea what to name Alfie and Mattie's mom. So I looked up a native American way of saying Sunflower, sorry if you don't like iiiiit D: (And if you're wondering, the reason that she's so beautiful and why she left the reservation she grew up in, is that she's a model and wanted to travel the world to see past her limitations)

did you not like it? D: or did you? any corrections? I'd love some reviews~

EDIT: Oops, forgot to thank my lovelies. BIIIG THANKS to my reviewers from last chapter: my three Guests, Fynniona, purple-ripples, cuzimafreak, and AekoAeviAthan! You guys rock, thanks so much for reading!

Also, everyone should totally go check out my Alpha Kats With Shamrocks and my skype buddy Kane and The Little Fine Print 's works, both of them are super cool and totally amazing, and love reviewers even more than I do! It'd mean the world if you looked them up~


	9. Chapter 8: Of Fields and Friendships

.

Hey all~ Gosh, I just want to apologize real quick for taking so long with this update. My ex is spending the week up with me and nobody wants to give me the large amounts of downtime that I'm used to OTL. This was supposed to be longer but I feel like it'd take me two more weeks to finish typing it at the rate I'm going so I axed the word count at about 1.5K. WILL YOU EVER FORGIVE ME IM SO SORRY GOSH IM JUST AWFUL -crying-

**DISCLAIMER:** You guys know the drill

* * *

**Chapter Eight:** Of Fields and Friendships

"Alfred, where are you taking me?" I mumbled quietly, trying my hardest not to start bawling from fear as we walked closer and closer to Sixth Street, a place very far from either of our homes. A place also known as Skid Row, where the lives of many have skidded to a halt and forced them onto the cold streets. I shivered and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the suspicious stares and the rancid smell. This whole situation puzzled me. Tomorrow I would leave for Russia and quite possibly never see my best friend ever again. Why on Earth would he take me to this area, of all places, to spend our last day together in?

I felt like crying.

I knew Alfred probably doesn't love me as much as I love him. I've always known that. While he may hug me and smile at me and cry with me, I knew his feelings weren't as deep for me as mine were for him. Sometimes it even seemed as if Matthew loved me more than Alfred...

"Don't worry Vanya! We're almost there, I just know you'll love it!" My lips trembled as we jogged down Skid Row, my friend either oblivious to the hundreds of homeless people around us or just suddenly blind. I had heard some stories about homeless people, and what they do to people and stuff. My mom had always told me to steer clear of strangers, and to never go down to these sorts of places without at least another person. A shudder wracked it's way up my back and I subconsciously moved closer to Alfred. How could he be smiling so brightly in a trashy place like this?

We rounded a corner before I quite literally felt like a petrified tree. Alfred bounded happily up to a man, one dressed in a stained gray sweatshirt and black sweatpants, what little bits of his dark chocolate skin visible resembled more of a shade like the dirt parents would plead their children not to step in. My brain jumbled even worse than a ten thousand piece jigsaw puzzle when my love, my Alfred, started rambling to this stranger with his vibrant smile. My mind could not even register his words. Suddenly, my hand was tugged and I stumbled after Alfred as he pulled us into a run down building. All of the lights were off, and even the blazing Los Angeles sun couldn't filter more than a few stray rays into the horror-film worthy area. Living up to the vibe, the only source of light creaked shut behind us in the most eerie way possible. I yelped a little whimper and clung close to Alfred, unable to stop the blissful inhale of his scent, already feeling calmer knowing he stood beside me. Alfred stilled momentarily and held me close, patting my back and drawing circles against my skin.

"Shh, I know it's a bit scary, but don't worry! Your hero has already cleared this area of villains!" he laughed softly into my ear, knowing to monitor his volume. "It's just a little farther up ahead. Trust me."

"... You know I always will," I whispered back, squeezing my friend just that much closer before releasing him quickly, not wanting to overstep my boundaries. Alfred smiled at me once more and clutched my hand in his; we continued walking into the darkness, slower this time to make sure we didn't trip over anything.

After walking through dim hallways and a few empty rooms, Alfred stopped and turned to me again. I halted dutifully beside him, waiting patiently for the explanation that I expected. Alfred paused for a moment, before leaning close to me and giving a peck to my forehead, a chaste little kiss. I blushed, thankful that the darkness would hide my happiness and embarrassment. "Hey, we're here... Don't be afraid, okay?"

As if on cue, the warehouse lights flickered awake suddenly. Startled, I whirled around to face the empty room, and froze. "Sunflowers..." I breathed dreamily, their beauty catching me unprepared and leaving me shocked beyond comprehension. I barely registered when Alfred clutched my hand once more.

"Do... Do you like them?" my head turned to face him on its own, my thoughts still miles away. Alfred fidgeted and released his grip, a blushy pink on his cheeks. "I painted them for you, after all..."

If my jaw had slackened when the lights came on, it definitely rested on the floor now. Dazed, I meandered away from Alfred and over to the ring of sunflowers; noticing for the first time that they were indeed painted onto walls. I traced a thin finger over one of the petals, a gleeful shudder ran its way up my back as I outlined the many brush strokes. A tiny smile formed on my lips, and I turned back to the awkward little boy in the center of it all.

I didn't know I was crying until a tear fell from my chin, and I rushed up to Alfred and crushed him in an embrace. My words choked up in my throat and I don't think I could have spoken no matter how hard I tried to push them out. Alfred trembled in my hold.

"Vanya? What's wrong? Do you not like them?" I pulled my best friend, my love, even closer against me.

"They're beautiful, Alfred. Thank you," I managed to mumble, somehow drawing us in a tighter hug.

"You're welcome, Vanya. And please, call me Alfie," I pulled back just a little bit from him, so I could look into his slightly blushing face.

"Alfie?"

"Yeah, just like that. And smile again, for me? I'm going to miss you when you go to Russia."

~{A}~

I breathed deeply, savoring the memories and the crisp park breeze. Vanya smiled at me as he finished retelling his journey, reminding me of the fading visions we shared.

"So, Alfie... You've heard my story... Can I hear yours?" I blinked and drew my hand back from his grip, fingering the scar on my wrist subconsciously. My lips trembled and I answered him reflexively.

"Huh? What do you mean?" I curled my expression into a coy little smile, cocking my head innocently to the side in an owlish fashion. Vanya fidgeted as he also clasped his hands together, his cheeks a light rose as he broke eye contact. He fumbled for words and worried his scarf, a motion he seemed to have kept after all of these years.

"Well... The story of what happened to your face would be a good start...?" my fingers ghosted over the forgotten area again, gliding along the edges of the sore spot. I dropped my gaze just a little, remembering the way I had treated Arthur at our... No, his house just that morning. I paused, wondering what I should tell my friend. I certainly didn't want him to worry about me, as that could complicate my situation with Arthur even further.

"Oh, this little thing?" I laughed and waved my hand dismissively in the air, finalizing my excuse in my head. "I was walking home and I guess some guy just had a problem."

It was partly true at least. Vanya nodded nervously and started taking off his scarf, sighing and wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Seeing him I realized how strongly the Los Angeles sun pounded us, even as we sat in the shade.

"Oh man, is it hot today or what?" I sighed out easily, slumping my shoulders a bit and fanning my cheeks with both hands to little effect. Vanya smiled again and wiped his hands on his thick looking canvas pants.

"Da, it is."

"Man, I could totally go for some ice cream right now," I sighed once more, slumping over the table and resting my head on the wood somewhat comfortably.

"Ice cream? Oh!" I glanced up at Vanya's excited tone, his face hopeful. "There is a parlor near to my house, would you join me?" I shot up to my feet, my face an image of joy and I smiled brightly.

"Dude, seriously? What are we waiting for, let's go!"

I leaned over the table and locked an intensely excited gaze on Vanya, who smiled a little bashfully and stood up as well. He gathered up his scarf and slung it over his muscular shoulders, turning and heading towards the parking lot. He glanced back at me expectantly, his little smile making my heart flutter.

"Then, my car is over here. It will be a bit of a drive..." I smiled and bounded over, clutching his arm and laughing at his startled expression as he led us away.

* * *

-sobbing- its so short agh im sorry everyone D:

thank you to (of my 213 readers) the six people who reviewed! , Trypheria, Gah, a Guest, NekoKaiya, and Fynniona! The few people who love this story enough to tell me so, I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH AGYUGYUGYU!

But, I love all my readers, I promise! ;w; Until next time everybody!


	10. Chapter 9: Bonding with Friends

Woot! Back to over 2K words :D Ack, I'm sorry... I know this chapter seems sorta filler-ish but no worries everyone! Every single word is very important :D

(Sorry for taking so long... again... -fails-)

**DISCLAIMER:** Hetalia season five. OMG. Everyone. Hetalia isn't over. My life has just been made. -Angelic chorus from the heavens-

* * *

**Chapter Nine**: Bonding with Friends

"Mr. Ivan! So good to see you again!" I blinked and watched Vanya and the man behind the ice cream parlor's counter awkwardly exchange a hug over the tasting area. The man had longer brown hair and kind green eyes; his name tag read 'Toris'. "You've never come with company before, is this your friend?"

"Da, this is Alfred," Vanya answered happily; indicating me with a backwards motion and stepping to the side, allowing me to come forward. The clerk, Toris, smiled at me and extended a frail looking hand. I smiled back a little unsuredly, and shook his hand.

"Toris. It is SO good to see Mr. Ivan bring friends, he seems like such a lonely person," he smiled brightly again at me and I couldn't help the little chuckle from escaping at Vanya's blushing face. I let go of the nice guy's hand and skimmed over the various ice cream flavors, seeing a few that sounded pretty good. On second thought, they all looked pretty good...

"So, Vanya comes here often then?" Toris blinked and shared a look with Vanya, before smiling like a sun and laughing a bit. Vanya's blush darkened just a little. I glanced up from my hunched over viewing of the ice cream flavors.

"Vanya? What a lucky guy!" I blinked at his mirthful tone, his radiant smile dissuading any possible sarcasm. "Anything you want is on the house!"

"Woah! Serious? Dang Vanya, keep this guy as a friend!" I scanned the flavors with more excitement, missing Vanya shaking his head quickly and Toris mouthing a startled and hasty apology. "Oh! This one sounds good. Can I get a scoop of rocky road and uh... Pralines and Cream on a waffle cone?" I smiled up at Toris as I straightened my back, reveling in the feel of my shoulders cracking. Toris smiled a bit nervously in response and selected a cone, readying a scooper in hot water.

"I think I'll try the pistachio this time, the regular please," Vanya ordered quietly, nodding joyfully when Toris acknowledged his request. Vanya clapped a hand onto my shoulder and we exchanged gleeful smiles before wandering over to an empty table in the relatively bare shop. A gaggle of girls whispered excitedly to each other in the far corner table, and I waved at them when I met their eyes. They paused momentarily in their gossip before going back at it with even more energy. I blinked before shrugging it off, turning back to a red faced Vanya. My face scrunched.

"Dude, you okay? The heat getting to you or something?" Vanya gave me a perplexed look.

"You mean you didn't get-... Something indeed..." he adjusted his shirt to let some air under it, glancing about and visibly relaxing as the kind Toris delivered our frozen treats. Vanya pulled forth a leather billfold, but Toris quickly waved it off and smiled.

"On the house," he stated as he passed me my precariously balanced cone and a small cup of green ice cream with a tasting spoon to my friend before going back over to the counter. Vanya looked a little uncertain but made no argument, instead opting to taste his food. We sat in silence for a few minutes, me taking small bites and licking the melting edges of my ice cream and Vanya spooning frozen deliciousness into his mouth. He seemed to be having a hard time looking at me and his face was still rather red...

"So, you live around here?" I asked, taking a long lick up the side of the Pralines and Cream scoop. Dang, was it good... Vanya's face got a little redder as he fumbled for words.

"Ah, ah... Just a few blocks from here actually," he mumbled, dropping his gaze to his spoon as he took another bite. I glanced up at him and smiled expectantly. Vanya blinked before catching on with a gentle gasp. "Oh. Would you like to... Come over?"

"Of course!" I laughed good naturedly and nodded yes, taking a large bite to swallow the last of the top scoop as the bottom one dribbled over the edges and onto my hands in a few places. Vanya smiled a small smile as he took another spoonful of his own dessert. I stared at his ice cream with a certain curious intensity.

"Say... I've seen pistachio flavors in a lot of shops but it always sounded kinda weird so I never tried it... Can I taste some of yours?" Vanya blinked, glanced down, nodded, and passed his cup over to me. I smiled and held my cone out. "Want any of mine?"

We exchanged desserts and took a few bites each. The pistachio wasn't actually all that bad... Vanya gave a small hum of satisfaction before we switched again. I smiled brightly at him as he finished what was left of his ice cream, continuing to devour my own at a faster rate. Working my way around the waffle cone, eating it layer by layer, I stood up and waved at Toris before glancing back at Vanya expectantly. Taking his cue, he stood up and walked to my side. I smiled at him.

"Lead the way, big guy."

* * *

"And dude, mom wasn't kidding! The pancakes were seriously green! Mattie cried for the rest of the day, which kinda sucked, but those pancakes man! I still don't get how she got them that color without adding anything to them!" I rambled off, recounting a random day in April of my sixth grade year to my chuckling friend. He laughed as we continued walking down the sidewalk, having forgone the car for the beautiful (and hot) weather. "Oh, and then there was this one other time that Mattie and I were in class and then alluva sudden-"

"Alfie," my friend held a delicate finger up to my lips in a shushing manner, my story fading as I silenced myself and stared up with wide eyes. "We're here."

I looked around at the nice neighborhood, the houses not quite as large as the ones in Arthur's area but not small like the rest of the city's. The one Vanya walked up to was a well-kept little place with a creamy white color and a flushed out green lawn. The two stories looked inviting with the numerous windows and flowers around the pathway, and over all the place had a homey atmosphere to it. I sidled up next to my friend as he fiddled with his keys.

Vanya blinked at me once, gave a short little sigh, and then opened the door. "Hero! I'm back!" he called into the seemingly empty house, taking off his shoes before stepping inside. I replicated his motions and entered as well, shifting to close the door behind me when something fluffy collided with my jean covered legs. I looked down.

And stared into the most adorable face I had ever seen. Gasping back a squeal, I blinked excitedly at those bright blue eyes, the fuzzy white cat blinking back at me. It considered my legs for a minute before jumping up onto them, Vanya giving a startled yelp as I stumbled backwards under the sudden weight. The white ball of fur with the creamiest chocolate brown tail and scruff bounded up my body, weaving in and out of my flailing limbs as it stealthily latched onto my back with well trimmed claws. I paused momentarily, startled and frankly too confused to do much else, as the white cat scrambled onto my shoulders and made itself comfortable into something akin to a living scarf. I blinked as the blue eyed cat purred and seemed content to just fall asleep right then and there, the rumbling noise filling the awkwardly startled atmosphere. Vanya sighed and reached to loosen his scarf as I stood a little taller, recovering from my shock and trying my hardest not to cuddle the cute little thing around my neck.

"I-I apologize for Hero's behavior, normally he is such a shy kitty," Vanya mumbled, clicking his tongue twice at the end and making a beckoning motion with his hands. The cat, Hero I suppose, perked up immediately before pouncing from my shoulders and leaping towards his owner's open arms. I blinked again and couldn't hold back a gleeful little giggle as Hero circled around Vanya's neck (which must be over heating greatly since he still wore his scarf in the hot summer weather) and licked his cheek before settling down again once more. The chocolate tail's tip whipped back and forth and curled up close to Vanya's face, brushing in what I imagined to be a ticklish fashion against his chin. My best friend smiled softly at his pet, gliding his fingers over the remarkably soft fur.

"Wow, what a fluffy little guy!" I reached out and stroked the top of the cat's head, the purring starting up again with a vengeance. "Must get hot though, with all of that winter fur..."

Vanya laughed and scratched his red cheek. "No, it is more that Hero is just fat."

The cat and I both stared up at him. He looked a little taken aback. I went on petting the kitty, ignoring my friend's comment. "Such a cutie pie! Aren't you just the fluffiest kitty to ever live? Yes, you are!" I leaned in close and rubbed noses with the happy cat, a habit I had picked up with all animals from when I worked at pet shelters as a volunteer. I glanced back up at Vanya, smiling as he smiled back. "So, wanna give me the grand tour of your mansion?"

"Oh, not a mansion... But sure, follow me," Vanya replied with a small chuckle, moving away from the entryway and into the depths of the comfortable house.

* * *

I laughed in my seat at Vanya's small kitchen table as he moved about the small room preparing a simple meal, Hero rubbing his white face against my hands. Vanya recounted tale after tale about cooking incidents he had experienced with his family growing up, a fair share of failures and major successes. His house was plain and simple with enough furnishings to prove evidence of life without being overly cluttered or extravagant. Apparently Vanya decided not too long ago after a lot of consideration to stay in the area more permanently and had recently purchased the house for a manageable sum. I reflected back on how peaceful it was here, and how much I longed to go back to when it was like this with Arthur.

I thanked my friend profusely as he set the dinner out on the table, a nice mixed salad and delicious smelling meat. "I'm sorry it is not much, I am a single man and was not expecting company... Please, eat as much as you like!"

"Wow, that smells really good... Thank you so much for having me, sorry for staying so long!" I laughed and thanked him again as he set the tall glass of water I had asked for instead of an alcoholic choice by my plate before going back to get into the kitchenette to get himself a glass and a bottle of vodka for himself. He sat down and we raised our cups in a toast before digging into the wonderful food. "Say, I kind of remember this taste from somewhere..." I mumbled after a few bites of the marinated steak.

"Ah, a friend of mine had given this to me just a few days ago from a meat locker nearby, saying I might need it... I guess he was right!" Vanya smiled cheerfully back, taking a quick swig of his vodka.

"A friend, huh..." I thought of Francis, and then of Arthur. Even with the amazing food and comfortable atmosphere, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I swallowed and chugged a bit of my water, washing down some salad as I tried to gather my courage. Vanya glanced down when Hero rubbed up against his leg and begged with a loud mewl for him to share his dinner. Watching the exchange, something inside me clicked and I felt as if I could just forget all of my fears, at least for a while longer. I put on a smile and took another bite, formulating my question. "Say... I know we haven't seen each other in such a long time, and I'd hate to impose... But, do you think I could spend the night here? There's some stuff going on at my house that I'd rather not think about," I felt like bashing my head against a wall as my resolve started crumbling towards the end of my request, ending with me staring into my plate and nibbling on a piece of lettuce.

Vanya blinked up at me, down at Hero, and back again at me before smiling softly in understanding, seeming to catch on to not pry into the matter. "Of course, you are always welcome in my home."

* * *

Hahaha. Next chapter will be super important guys! Stay with me!

And I want to apologize in advance. After today, my free time will be remarkably diminished with school and marching band (we're going to the Macy's Parade so training will be INTENSE). HOWEVER! I have every intention of giving you guys updates as often as I can!

Big thanks to my record eleven reviewers: 91RedRoses, cuzimafreak, Fynniona, Trypheria, Awww, my Guest, purple-ripples, easha, ninjaco0kieXD and of course to my SUPER AMAZING Alpha Kats With Shamrocks! If you haven't already, definitely check out her works! (I'm beta-ing for her, so I can vouch when I say they are all as awesome if not more so than Prussia! So you should read them!)

Thanks for reading everyone, you guys rock!


	11. Chapter 10: Seeing the Dream

Woot, finally finished buwahahaha! I meant to get this out last night but I fell asleep at my desk so sorry it's a bit late! This was actually a really challenging chapter for me to write... I'm the kind of girl where everyone goes to me to tell me their problems, so to actually try writing about other people's problems was a bit of a challenge since I myself rarely if ever tell people how I feel so... sorry if it's a bit awkward? -sweat drop-

But, I honestly love the second half so look forward to that! (I've been planning that scene since the very beginning -teehee-)

**DISCLAIMER: **People should totally go look up the dream's symbols at the end, but you know, only if you want spoilers and aren't very good at guessing what will happen AHAHAHAHAHA

* * *

**Chapter Ten**: Seeing the Dream

"Okay, I'm turning off the light now."

Vanya's pale blue room plunged into darkness as he flicked the bedside lamp off. I lay under his large white comforter and silky sheets, a spare pair of his long pajama pants on along with my tee shirt from earlier. I blinked up blindly at the ceiling as my friend settled down beside me into his bed, and as he relaxed his calm and deep breathing soothed into a constant sound next to me. I sighed, not sure if I should be overjoyed at spending the night with a friend- something I had not done in a very long time- or to be depressed for the very same reason. I shifted over onto my side, towards my friend and away from my life and away from everything. I curled into his sheets, into his scent, into this new warmth. I felt like suffocating.

I watched my friend through half-lidded eyes. He rested next to me like a dream, eyes closed and face calm. He lay stomach up with his hands resting perfectly one on top of the other on his toned belly like a princess in a Disney movie, his chest billowing up slowly in time to every gentle intake of cool night air. I glanced at the meager space between us on his queen-sized bed and felt sick to my stomach. I couldn't tell if I wanted to close the tiny gap or leap out of bed and run home to Arthur, those feelings then replaced with even worse ones at the horrific visualizations of what would happen to me if I did that.

The silence weighed heavily upon me, crushing my entire being into a broken sack of nothing but flesh and blood. I wanted it to, anyway.

Here I was, trying to sleep next to my childhood crush of a best friend who I hadn't seen in 19 years, despairing over my life and the feelings my hardships brought upon me. I felt like slapping myself. Those thoughts were wrong. My life isn't actually all that hard. I have a job, a brother, a few sort of close friends, a boyfriend who loves me, a roof over my head and food to fill me up whenever I get hungry. I, of all people, should know how lucky I am to have all of that and more.

My work has shown me so many more people that are far less fortunate than I, and I'm sure that any one of them would envy the life I was so graciously blessed with. But, even knowing this fact and knowing that I should be happy and content with my life, it didn't make me feel any better. It only made it worse.

I am supposed to be the Hero. I'm the person that is supposed to suffer in silence and take anything that may come my way in order to make sure the people around me were happy. I'm the one who loves smiles and laughter more than anything else in the world and yet just that morning I had nearly made the person closest to me cry.

With a sickening sob I realized something. I couldn't be the hero, not after that. I haven't helped Arthur. I haven't lived up to the promise I had made so long ago. He hasn't smiled at me the way he used to in the past three years. And, what made it even worse as I choked back another sniffle, I was just going to leave him without hardly even trying...?

No, stop.

Stop thinking.

Time and time again I had repeated those thoughts, time and time again I had bandaged and iced my wounds as I told myself those exact same words. This time, this time would be different. I had already made my decision and I would follow through with it.

Independence. I will have my independence. I _will._

This mantra tortured me day in and day out; every time there was even the barest moment of silence those sentences would chant crazily in my head, never leaving me alone. Independence independence independence. But, what about Arthur? What about the person I would leave to gain that silly little thing? More importantly, where would I go and what would I do with this 'independence'?

I shivered and nuzzled my way a little deeper into the soft bed, not caring if I drew that much closer to my friend. It's Arthur's smile or my own selfish independence. The obvious answer laughed obnoxiously at me as I debated uselessly over my two choices. I choked back another sob and sniffled just a little, desperately rubbing at my eyes as the realization struck.

I...

I can't leave Arthur.

I sniffled again, the quiet noise muffled but a bit louder this time as that cursed sentence rebounded in my mind. I can't leave Arthur. Or at least, I can't leave him yet. Vanya shifted beside me, tentatively placing a hand down on my shoulder.

"Alfie...?" he sounded tired, but concern for me was also evident. "What's wrong?"

I stared into the darkness, trying my hardest to make out his face. Frustrated at not being able to see ANYTHING clearly, I rolled over in the sheets and muttered, "It's nothing." I pouted at the wall, as if I could shift all of the blame for my feelings to it.

Vanya shifted closer to me as I buried my face into his sweet smelling pillow. I felt the dip in the mattress as he sat up, leaning over me just slightly as I was slowly cornered into the wall. The bird in my chest fluttered and grew restless. The back side of a slim but strong hand gently brushed back my bangs, and I nearly screeched at how similar it felt to Arthur's hands. Those hands...

I shivered and managed a tiny peek through my arms as I covered my ears and curled even more into my fetal position, the sheets taught around my body as I adjusted to protect myself. All I saw was darkness and a deep shadow with mussed hair and an unreadable expression and oh,_ God..._

"Shhh, shh... It's okay, Alfie," a soft voice gentler than a mother's first embrace with a newborn shushed above me, a voice unlike the one that terrorized my memories. I flinched and slowly tried bringing my hands away from my face to little effect. "Let it all out... There's no one here but me."

I trembled and my entire being threatened to fall into unsaveable pieces. His words, _my _words... The dam cracked and my lips did as well into the smallest of smiles, a few tears gushing unceremoniously from me and I distractedly worried about messing up Vanya's sheets with the salty water. I shook and tried to hold them back, tried to be strong.

I am strong, I am strong.

I cried a little harder and forced myself to curl up even more. Vanya lay back down beside me, this time closer to my back and with his arm slung all the way over my shoulder in a comforting hug. I wailed silently and scrunched my face in determination to dry out my tear ducts. Shaky but even breaths entered and left me as I shook my head and cleared my thoughts, suddenly feeling ridiculous for the impromptu break down.

What was I doing, getting all freaked out over nothing? Arthur wasn't here. He can't hurt me, not here. Not again.

I wiped my nose on the edge of my sleeve, not particularly caring about it getting dirty at this point. I managed to turn around in Vanya's loose grip, blinking back and smiling as the pale moon graced the edges of his face. Even with my blurry vision I could _see_ him, I could see his defined nose and gentle sunken eyes blink back at me with a small smile across thin but fleshed out lips. Vanya was my friend. Vanya wouldn't hurt me the way _he_ had hurt me.

"Are you... feeling any better?" I could tell from the quiver in my friend's voice that he had not expected me to cry and stop so suddenly, and had chosen his words carefully. I sniffled and wiped my nose again, managing a soft smile.

"Yeah... yeah, I am. Sorry about that," I mumbled with a little laugh, feeling silly for breaking down like that. Something about this whole ridiculous situation stirred my emotions to far past the usual simmering-below-the-surface I had known for so very long, past my tolerance and understanding. I chuckled again as Vanya remained silent, removing his arm to instead form a second pillow with it beneath his head. "I was just thinking about..." I fumbled for words, unsure if I wanted to reveal everything yet or not. "Stuff."

Vanya considered my statement for a moment or two in contemplative silence, tortuous silence. "You know, perhaps it would be best to get what ever this 'stuff' is off your chest...? I would be glad to listen to you."

It was my turn to be quiet for a moment. Just as I was about to say that no, I didn't want to share, a heavy weight jumped onto the bed and I couldn't suppress the little yelp at the suddenness. Vanya giggled before sitting up again as the weight shifted readily towards our faces, not seeming to care that it trampled me with little tiny feet. Hero mewled loudly and proceeded to rub up against Vanya's clothed chest in little circles, purring and eventually pouncing on his chest to make him fall back down into the sheets. I laughed a little a Vanya's meager protests to get Hero to stop licking his face, and joined him in petting the happy cat's face. The moon outside the window illuminated Hero's white fur, and I truly felt at peace watching Vanya interact and love his dear pet. As we settled back down and my chest bubbled with a certain kind of happiness, I closed my eyes and answered him.

"I'll tell you in the morning."

~~~And so, Off to Dreamland~~~

That night, I had a dream. I was in the back of a little white fishing boat, floating under a hot sun with nothing but dark blue water all around. I had a feeling we had been shifting through these waves for a very, very long while. I propped my head against my hand and leaned over the edge of the boat, looking down into the dark depths. I reached over the barrier and traced little swirls into the water, feeling a bit bored.

At this point I noticed a singular speck of yellow a few feet behind our boat, and upon further inspection realized it to be the petal from a sunflower. Sudden inspiration to add that color into the dull blue of my life, I reached out for it as far as I could but wasn't able to reach it. I tried again, leaning farther and farther out until I managed to grasp it in my hand. But I had reached too far and tumbled into the frigid waters, sinking slowly and flailing desperately about me. As I sank deeper and deeper into the darkness of the sea, I tried opening my eyes.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight that presented itself to me. Colors and shapes and fishes of all different kinds swam past and lived their lives, so many little pieces that were all different from each other fit together perfectly in the most spectacular array I could have ever imagined. I connected to my limbs and propelled myself through this amazing coral reef, my chest swelling with amazement and joy at its beauty.

I lost track of time, all of the colors and feelings swirling and pushing me everywhere I could have possibly wanted to go for hours and hours on end. Suddenly, I noticed something that seemed a little set off from the rest of this gorgeous dream; something that didn't strike me as something that could possibly thrive so well under water. A sunflower wearing a flowing light brown coat and a faded pink scarf seemed to wave at me as the water rushed past its leaves. I swam over and admired the brightness of it, suddenly aware of the petal I still clutched in my hand. I hovered beside this tall flower, managing to eventually sit beside it and watch so many other fish go by as the sunlight above filtered wonderfully through the water.

As content as I was, I noticed a thin silver thread dangling not far from me with the metallic hook glinting. Something told me that that fishing line was meant for me, and that I was the only one who could take it. I remembered the fisherman in my boat, the one I had left behind for all of this beauty around me. I felt an urge to go back, to take him into these waters with me. I looked sadly to my friend, the sunflower, before pushing off from the rock to reach that hook. I swam up to it and took one last look back at the fish, the colors, the sunflower, before reaching out and taking hold of the thin wire.

My vision blurred at being forced to the surface so suddenly; and before I knew what had happened I was back in my boat with my fisherman, only to realize it was not a simple fishing man but a lavish pirate in a dark green coat with a sunflower pattern stitched in gold thread all over it. Tight arms wound around me and I couldn't move, sudden fear struck through me.

"_You're mine."_

* * *

_Dun DUN DUUUUUNNNNN!  
_So now I'm for totes curious as to what my lovely readers think will happen. So, go ahead! Give a biiiiig guess!

LOL, this was supposed to be the super emotional chapter but I couldn't figure out how to word it so I'm putting it off until next chapter. Stay tuned my pretties! (Not that this chapter wasn't SUPER important or anything, nope~)

Super Awesome Mega-Hugs to all of my wonderful reviewers: 91RedRoses, To, cuzimafreak, trypheria, Brenna, purple-ripples, kukuki, Mcwollybob, and ninjaco0kieXD!

Also, THE BIGGEST THANKS I COULD POSSIBLY GIVE to reviewer Fynniona, artist of my lovely cover image! She has no idea how special it is, really -sobbing-

Until next time everyone! -waves-


	12. Chapter 11: Return to Reality

A month... Oh gosh I'm so sorry everyone. I meant to get this out waaaaaay sooner, but with school and guard it's been really hard just typing a few sentences at a time D: I'll try to work faster but realistically expect me to update maybe once a month... I'm real sorry.

But anyway, the next chapter! at 2.1K words, here it is! -shot-

DISCLAIMER: Season Five omg omg omg omg.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven:** Return to the World

I sat up quickly with a gasp and a yelp, scrambling in the sheets and trying to get away from that ghostly grip. I backed up against the wall and waved my arm about blindly to stop my attacker, pausing in confusion once I realized that the colors of this morning were different from my usual scheme. I blinked and relaxed a bit as my dreamy nightmare washed away, already forgotten. I looked around at the soft blue walls and eggshell white sheets as I searched blindly for my glasses. I reached over the lump beside me and groped for the bedside table, finding purchase and slipping my trusty lenses onto my face. Blinking rapidly as my eyes adjusted back to clarity in the early morning light from the window across the room, I looked down at my nighttime partner.

Or rather, my nighttime partner's cat. Hero draped bodily over Vanya's face, the only skin visible were the topmost and bottommost areas of his forehead and chin respectively while his hair looked like a squashed platinum blond fruit. I giggled at the sleeping pair, Hero's fluffy brown tail twitching ever so slightly as I slipped out the foot of the bed after replacing my borrowed sheets and pillow. I stood up and stretched, twisting my already relaxed body back and forth to get out the few remaining chinks. I glanced back at my hosts before wandering back downstairs in search of something to wake me up.

I traced my way to the little kitchenette, admiring the light wood furnishings and tiled floor as I flicked the light on. I looked around but was unable to locate a coffee maker, so instead I walked over to Vanya's fridge. And paused.

Would it be weird for me to raid his fridge...? Well, I had already gone out with him for ice cream, ate at his house, slept in his bed, and broke down in tears already. I shrugged and yanked on the handle.

To say his refrigerator was bare would be like saying Siberia could get a little chilly in December. The only things in the large cooling device were some milk, leftover meat from yesterday, a few sauces and condiments, some eggs, and various vegetables that could form a hearty salad. I blinked and shut the door, figuring to look around some more. Without much thought I opened cabinet after cabinet, finding a few cooking oils, pans and pots, silverware, plates, glasses, a rather large supply of vodka, and eventually located his pantry. Every shelf was labelled and organized, ranging from different canned goods to crackers and cereal, oats and exotic spices I couldn't recognize, and then at the bottom larger soup pots and baking tins. And the cat food. Three shelves were devoted solely to various kinds of canned and bagged cat food. I smiled at the tidy neatness and closed the doors.

Reaching for the skillet in the next drawer over and setting it on the stove, I got some eggs from the fridge again. The controls gave me some difficulty but in the end I managed fiddling the burner on to high and cracked the eggs inside. As the bottom of the meager breakfast started cooking I looked around for a spatula to aid in my endeavor. Settling for a fork instead, I scrambled the eggs carefully, separating them into two sections as they solidified through. I clicked the stove off and went for the plates I had found earlier, taking some time to search for some bread to go with it. As the pan cooled I cut up some of the left over steak, warming it up in the nearby microwave. As the machine dinged and I located some bread, Vanya padded up next to me blearily rubbing at his eyes, Hero trying his absolute hardest to trip his owner as he brushed in and out of his long legs. Vanya regarded me with a confused and tired look, recognizing me with a startled little gasp and blinking as if he didn't expect me to have breakfast already made. I winked at him as I passed, setting the plates down on the table behind the counter.

"Morning, Sunshine," I sing-songed cheerily, beckoning for him to come sit down as I went back to clean up the tools I had used for breakfast. Vanya plopped down obediently, almost as if in a trance. He blinked owlishly at me as I ran water over the skillet in the sink.

"... Sunshine?"

"Hm? Oh, right. Sorry, that's what my boyfriend likes me to call him when he's around for breakfast," I smiled a downcast little smile as I scrubbed at the skillet with a sponge I had found at the edge of the sink. Vanya's fork clattered onto his plate and I glanced up at his startled red face. His jaw was poised to take in a bite of food but now twitched at the edges as I assumed he fought for the right words.

"B-boyfriend...?" he finally managed, face red and violet eyes a little panicked. I chuckled and shook my head as I scrubbed the already clean pan even harder, needing an outlet for my emotions.

"Sorry, I guess I should've told you sooner..." I mumbled, turning off the tap and searching for a dishtowel to dry my tools off with. "My boyfriend, Arthur Kirkland. He likes it when I do little things like that..."

Vanya just stated at me in shock. I flinched a little and set my materials down on the counter, deciding to distract myself with warm food. I made my way over and sat down across the table from my friend, whose mouth still hung open. I wondered as I picked at my food with my fork if I could fling a piece into his open lips. Ah yes, wonderful distractions. Vanya still seemed incapable of speech, so I pressed on into the awkward silence. "Or at least, I think he likes it when I do those sorts of things. He doesn't hit me as much if I do."

Now Vanya showed a response. He slapped his hands against the table and stood up, making the entire setting tremble. I jumped back uncontrollably at the sudden, familiar loudness. "H-he what?!" I blinked and shivered a bit, fighting to keep my voice in check.

"Woah, calm down! I'm going to explain, I promise," my voice tapered towards the end as I took a bite of my food. I waited until Vanya found his seat again before I continued. "Anyway, my boyfriend... He wasn't always so violent, you know?" I doubted he knew. "He used to be such a sweetheart... But then, stuff happened."

"W-what kind of stuff...?" Vanya interrupted, looking extremely anxious and fidgety as he nibbled his breakfast. I used the opportunity to pick at my own food, wondering at the best way to proceed. Arthur himself hadn't really even given me all the details surrounding the event, as it was extremely traumatizing for him and I couldn't bring myself to ask him to remember that dark time. I shook my head and took a bite of my bread.

"I'm sorry," I began apologetically. "That isn't really my story to tell. But, stuff happens you know? He started drinking a lot more after that, and I still remember the first time he beat me. After that, well, it kinda just went downhill."

I sighed, waiting for my friend to say something... anything! I mean, it's not like I expected him to have all of my answers and make everything just go away! I just need... I just need...

A hug. A single tear rolled down my cheek as I found myself embraced from behind, even Hero had calmed down to brush up and stay against my leg. I swallowed thickly, rubbing away my sorrows as I controlled myself. Taking a deep breath, I patted Vanya's arms to let him know I was okay. "Thanks," was all I could mutter before going back to picking at my breakfast. My food tasted like ash and I set my fork down, not in the least bit hungry anymore.

Vanya regarded me quietly, seeming hesitant to but eventually returning to his seat. Hero jumped up on the table and settled down beside my plate, watching me as if waiting for the right moment to steal my breakfast. I frowned downwards, hating how awkward and tense everything had become. This wasn't what I had intended at all.

"Alfie..." Vanya started before halting, licking his lips as he thought about his next phrase. "Do you... Do you love this man?"

"Yes," my voice spoke on its own, before I sighed and glanced towards the wall. "No... It-its complicated."

Vanya took another contemplative moment of silence. "What do you want to do now?"

I glanced up. "Well, I'm sure Arthur's been expecting me home for a long time now..."

"That wasn't what I asked," Vanya replied calmly as I felt shame fill me. "I want to know what /you/ want to do. I will always be here to support whatever decision you make," those pale lips spread thin into a comforting smile, just shy of the one I loved so very much. I couldn't bear to face him after that, I mean, how could I? Arthur would probably be worried sick at home about where I had disappeared to, and here I was bumming off of a basic stranger and almost spilling my heart out in a selfish rant. Disgust filled me to the core.

"I... I think I need to go back, at least to let him know I'm okay," I replied lamely, absentmindedly scratching behind Hero's ears as I stared at my mostly full plate. Vanya nodded shortly, finishing his food and looking up at me expectantly. I rose from my seat with a sigh. "Look, Vanya... I just want to apologize."

"There's no need for that, Alfie," Vanya smiled as he walked back over to me. "It must have been so hard on you... To take it and to tell me," he added as an afterthought. I watched him sadly as he brushed over my bruised cheek. "This was from him, then?"

With a sigh, I nodded. "There are more of those, actually. But they're all healing pretty well this time."

"This time..." Vanya echoed quietly, caressing my face as I let him examine me with those deep violet eyes. I smiled ever so slightly and brushed his hand away.

"Well, I gotta get going..."

"Would you like a ride this time?" I looked up at him again.

"Yeah... I'd like that very much."

* * *

The door stood in front of me innocently, as if it was a barrier to keep the inside's suffering away from the world. I glanced back at Vanya, who had politely escorted me from his car to the mansion-like house. My keys jingled on their ring as I unlocked the door and security, pausing briefly before pushing it open. "Arthur?" I called out wearily, hesitantly taking a step inside. "I'm home..."

Fumbling footsteps echoed down the hall as the strong and sudden stench of alcohol filled the area. Arthur stumbled out of the kitchen, smiling drunkenly when he saw me. "A'fred... 'Ere you aaarrre..."

I prepped myself and only took a slight step back as he slouched into my arms, his legs giving out beneath him as he transformed into a puddle of giggles and goo. I frowned and shrugged him more upright, trying to set him back on his feet. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here..."

Arthur blinked and watched me wearily, before glancing behind me for the first time. He roughly shoved me aside and swayed in a form of protective stance, blocking me from my friend. "The 'ell are you doing here, twat?" Arthur cussed, taking another swig from the bottle I hadn't realized he was holding. Vanya blinked and looked as if he wanted to take a step back, but held his ground.

"Vanya," I cut in when it looked like he wanted to reply, swiftly tugging the increasingly angry-looking Arthur away from him. "Vayna, please. I can handle this."

My friend regarded me wearily, scowling when Arthur growled at him. "I don't think I should leave you like this..." he muttered, fists clenching into fists as Arthur turned and sloppily kissed my cheeks. I shrugged my sort-of boyfriend off and helped him stand, inching farther back into our house.

"It'll be okay... I'll call you later, alright?" I licked my lips and tried not to cry. "Please go, I'll see you later."

Vanya looked taken aback, obviously hurt by my cruel words. I couldn't face him, instead opting to look at my feet and let Arthur fondle me and breathe his rancid breath over my face. Vanya turned around and stepped out of the house, only briefly glancing back at me before shaking his head and walking away.

The door slammed shut, and I couldn't help but feel I had done something absolutely horrible.

* * *

Dun Dun DUUUNNN.

Or not.

I dunno. Think that's cliff-hanger enough, ish? Heehee, next chapter's cliffhanger will make you all want to murder me for sure, anyone wanna take a stab at what might happen? -heeheeheehee-

But... do you all want to murder me anyway, for taking so long? D: I won't know unless you revieeeeww~~


	13. Chapter 12: Struggle

Oh. My. Gosh.

I am so sorry this is so late -shot- you all have my express permission to hate me now. I also want to apologize for how short this is D: my life has been totally cray cray and my homework load and band is killing me! Luckily the Macy's parade is only 2 weeks away (OMG WE ARE NOT READY YET HALP) so once that's over the band hysteria should calm down significantly and i can try writing more... The story is all planned out so i really just have to find the time to sit down and type it at least?

I'm real sorry everyone D:

But enough about this horrible writer, here's the next chapter!

**DISCLAIMER: **omg season 5.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve:** Struggle

"Here you are, love..." Arthur mumbled as he handed me a bubbling glass of coke, smiling nervously as he sat beside me and sipped his tea. I glanced warily into the cup, nursing my swollen lips and freshly bruised cheek before gulping the entire drink down. Arthur watched me with a calculatingly worried stare, as if awaiting a response. I stared into the empty cup.

"Are you sober now?" I scowled darkly, distinctly remembering the reasons I had left yesterday. Arthur flinched and took another sip of his tea.

"Y-yes, I'm feeling a bit bet-"

"Good. I'm taking a shower," I cut him off quickly, standing up and turning away from him as I set my glass down on the counter. I fled the room as quickly as I could, thundering up the stairs as Arthur called after me. I slammed the door to the bathroom with a choked back sob, lightly slapping myself to get my act together. I stared at the tiled floor, sighing heavily as I whipped off my shirt.

The water splashed loudly against the tiles in the shower, before quieting significantly when I entered. Streams ran along my skin as I stared down at the temperature dial, yanking it to the coldest setting. I had to close my eyes as rivulets coursed over my face from my soaked hair, placing my hands on the wall for balance as I bowed my head in submission.

What was I doing? Why had I come back? My cheek screamed at me before being numbed by the freezing water, my whole body duly aching. I wanted to cry. How could I be so stupid?! No matter what I did or said nothing would change between me and Arthur. I rested my head against the wall and just let the cleansing water wash over my back, my body shivering as it tried adjusting to the frigid temperature.

"Alfred?"

I flinched and almost slipped on the slick tiles, whirling around as one of the doors to the shower slid open. Arthur stepped into the relatively dry half, rolling up his white sleeves and not seeming to care that his tan pants were getting wet. I pressed into the nearest wall, suddenly nervous and extremely uncomfortable. I shut off the water.

"W-what are you doing here? Get out!" I shouted angrily, scowling as I tried to cover myself with my hands. Arthur scoffed easily, shrugging as he picked up the stray loofah and the body wash I liked to use.

"Oh hush, I thought I'd help you," Arthur chuckled as if that was totally natural, pouring soap into the spongy substance and lathering it up. I glared at him wearily, my head pulsing with sudden confusion.

"I don't need your help," I growled, reaching for the other sliding door to get out. Arthur's gentle hand on my chest stopped my movement and I jumped back against the wall from the sudden and unexpected contact. His eyebrow quirked before he inched closer. I squirmed under his intensely predatory gaze.

"Doesn't mean I can't help anyway. Up," he ordered me like a dog, tapping my leg with the loofah and indicating for me to step up onto the small ledge in our shower. I regarded him wearily, blushing and even more uncomfortable as he frowned at me. We used to do this sort of thing together, where we would take turns washing each other off. I tended to wash his back, and he seemed to have an obsession with washing my legs and lower body. I fidgeted and tried to turn away from him.

"N-no. I don't want to. I'm not your dog," I mumbled stubbornly, pouting and staring at the wall. Arthur sighed.

"Did I ever say you were? There's no reason to be difficult, really. Come on now, up," he ordered again, swishing the loofah teasingly over my upper arm. I squirmed and blushed, but the small shower left me trapped. I frowned, sighing in defeat and ready to just get this over with.

"Fine," I growled, lifting my leg so I was facing and nearly pressing into the wall. I looked over my left shoulder. "But I'm leaving if you try anything sexual."

Arthur chuckled and didn't reply, instead swirling and scrubbie up and down my thigh and calf until it was completely covered in the slippery and bubbly substance. I squirmed, my face a dark red as the loofah slowly encroached on an area I'd rather my sort-of boyfriend not touch. I set my foot down on the ground, facing the wall and moving out of his reach.

"Arthur," I growled warningly, watching him shrug sheepishly.

"Er, right... Other leg up," he instructed with a hum, squishing the loofah as if he'd rather it be my ass in his hand. I glared, before slowly turning around.

"Watch yourself, I really will leave."

Arthur nodded as I set my other foot up, the rest of my body completely bare and open for him to see. I didn't miss when he licked his lips as he set to work on scrubbing my right leg. I crossed my arms across my chest with a huff, stubbornly closing my eyes and turning my face away as the soothing scrubbie worked in tender and spiraling circles. I blushed and tried not to think about how relaxing it was; I could already feel myself getting sleepy and light-headed from the warm water and calm movement.

I sighed and just let Arthur wash my legs, let him do as he wanted, let him have power over me. I didn't complain when he started washing my belly, didn't complain when he fondled my chest with the synthetic sponge. I let him turn me around and scrub my back, down my spine and over my shoulder blades.

By the time he guided me back under the warm water stream I was feeling sleepy and relaxed, a bubbled up puppet. The water splashed against my face and I closed my eyes, feeling the soothing liquid make me clean again.

... Clean?

I startled and shoved Arthur away, a bit confused when my brain didn't snap into focus. Shutting the water off again, I ignored Arthur's complaints and roughly slid the shower door away and stumbled out, grabbing a hanging towel and wrapping it around myself to the best of my out-of-whack ability. I barely heard Arthur shout at me through my haze.

"Alfred, what are you doing?!"

"What am I doing?" I shouted back, glaring over my shoulder at him before looking away with a piercing pain, a ringing starting up in my head. "You-! You treat me like shit and it's disgusting how I keep coming back to you, I'm done here! I'm leaving you, and this time I'm not coming back!"

My world suddenly tilted and I had to slump against the wall for support, my vision spinning and blurring way more than usual when I wasn't wearing my glasses. I barely recognized Arthur's form coming out of the shower or the strong grip on my upper arm. Scrabbling against the tiles to but horribly disoriented, I tried weakly to get away. Arthur seemed to smile. "Ah, about time it really started to kick in..."

Every sense in my body screamed struggle and fight, but my limbs felt like jello and I couldn't even see. It took me a moment to form words. "W-what did you do to me...?"

Arthur smiled as I groaned, lolling my head back and slackening even more, everything becoming horribly fuzzy as my head grew increasingly dizzy. I struggled to keep my eyes open, trying to scratch Arthur away as he penned me in. My vision faded into black and I hunched over, the last thing I could hear haunting me in my forced sleep.

"I'm not letting you leave me so easily, you're mine."

* * *

-sobbing- its so short D: and written terribly. im so sorry. you can all kill me now, like please. send me review hate. i deserve it. -crying in corner-

Thank you to all of my fabulous reviewers and to the people who still read this!

Im so sorry D:

-shot-


	14. Chapter 13: Significant Distance

*quietly drops this here before prepares to be shot by everybody*

This chapter is partially UKUS, but I _PROMISE _I will get to the RusAme in just a little bit, so bear with me!

**WARNING! Very dark themes are included this (short) chapter, if you do not like such things, just skip to the segment break about halfway through.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen:** Significant Distance

""Peter? Peter, I'm home! Mum and dad said they had some more meetings, so I decided to visit!" I announced loudly as I entered my childhood house, a quaint mansion-like place with plenty of space and dignified furnishings. Hanging up my coat, I looked around the place I hadn't been to in so long, wondering where my rascal of a little brother was hiding. Well, Peter wasn't all that little anymore. But I've been so busy with college and courting that handsome American boy that I haven't seen my dear brother for over a year now. We used to be so close, but he never talks to me anymore!

Peter always did like surprises, so I decided to come home for once and spend the weekend with him. I reached into my satchel and felt the smooth paper of the theme park tickets I had purchased for the two of us; he always said he wanted to go. Our parents never went home very much since they both worked many long hours, so as children Peter and I rarely went out. I could count on both hands the number of times we had done things together as an entire family.

But, I had a spare weekend away from Alfred, and who better to spend it with than my own little brother?

"Peter, where are you? I know you're home from school by now," I chuckled lightly, climbing up the stairs and deeper into the eerily silent house. _Still no response..._ "Peter?"

I checked his room first before having to double take. The blue and white striped room seemed to have been ransacked by a rampant abstract artist, streaks of dried black paint splattered all over the pastel-colored walls with every drawer open as clothes and papers littered the floor. It took me a moment to remember that Peter was a teenager now, and that teenagers tended to do bizarre things to their living spaces. I swallowed at the sight but pointedly ignored it, shutting the door and missing the perfectly neat sheet of paper laid significantly on Peter's desk.

"Peter!" I called out again, shuffling towards the back hall, near my old room. As I passed the bathroom I caught on to a very soft series of gasps, and I paused. Something felt terribly wrong, and the tension left me paralyzed for a moment. "Peter...?"

Slowly, and very carefully, I inched over to the closed bathroom door. The white-painted wood looked innocent and normal, the only strange thing was the gasps and partially-muffled cries as I laid my ear against the door. Listening, I heard soft pants and a strangely liquid-like squelch squelch, like someone was taking a bath in water as dense as mud. With great hesitation and a minimal amount of courage, I clasped the doorknob in my hand and turned it.

A sharp clanking sound snapped as the door was pushed upon, as if the lock hadn't been secured the whole way and simply came free when the knob turned. I stumbled forward with surprise, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight laid out in the tub.

Peter had yelped in shock when the door opened, jerking up suddenly when he was caught off guard. He immediately screamed, clutching at his bleeding wrist as he dropped the butcher knife he was holding to it just a moment ago.

Everything seemed to freeze as it took me an impossibly long time to process exactly what was happening at that very moment. There was Peter, my dearest little brother, bleeding himself dry in the family bathtub where we used to bathe together as children, a large and gaping gash in his pale and thin wrist from where the knife had slipped when I opened the door. There was blood, _everywhere_, all over him, trailing down his arm in what looked to me like a Hellish and gushing waterfall. There was a long pause before I felt my feet move, my whole body lurching forward as I dropped my satchel, its contents and the tickets spilling out from it like blood spilled from my brother's wrists. "Peter!"

I heard myself scream, our voices caught together in horrible harmony just like the times we had sung 'Happy Birthday' every year, except it was worse. Far, far worse. I saw myself grab his wrist away from him, felt myself pull him in a tight hug and beg for him to be all right, to be safe.

"Peter! Peter, please! STAY WITH ME!" I screamed at him, my tears mixing in with the ever-increasing amount of blood. Blood, _blood, __**blood! **_It was everywhere! It was on him, it was on me, on our clothes, in the tub, on the floor, everything was just blood red and bloody and oh, _God_ the blood!

I shouted at him and applied as much pressure to his wrist as I could, hysterically trying to save my baby brother who I loved more than the world and everything in it's life. It took me a very long moment to realize he was reaching for my face, his eyes lost and nearly dead to the world. "Stay with me, Peter!"

"I don't..." he rasped, his voice weak and fading fast as he whispered. I choked and cried, watching him bleed out all over my lap and get paler every second. "... don't want to... d-"

And then, everything went still.

I stopped crying, watery tears stinging the edges of my eyes.

"Peter?"

I woke up with a shout and a jolt, sitting straight up in bed. I looked around in a panic, groping around the dim light for someone I knew I had lost long ago. Wheezing and gasping with despair, I hunched over and sobbed, my whole body shaking under the onslaught of tears.

_Peter..._

I sniffled, rubbing my nose and looking around me to reorient myself. It was early morning now, and the sunlight from the small window across the room filtered a small beam of light onto my beloved who slept beside me. I checked to make sure the handcuffs were secured around the slatted headboard, and then checked the ankle cuff and chain that were fastened on the bed's leg. Nodding, I deemed Alfred's bonds to be safe and unbreakable, knowing my boyfriend still had a few hours before the drugs would actually wear off.

I stood up and stretched, glancing around my Lake Tahoe cabin.

Lake Tahoe really was a great place, about an eight-hour drive from Los Angeles depending on traffic, there weren't a lot of people around and no one ever bothered to look at the mostly empty cabins here. The fresh air was calm and relaxing, perfect for getting one's mind refocused back on what was truly important in their life.

_Yes..._

I sat down on the edge of the bed, turning to caress Alfred's beautiful sleeping face and smiling when he whimpered and shifted. He was such a darling angel, someone to be loved eternally and kept safe from demons that would try to take him away from me.

"You are never allowed to leave me, Alfred... I'll make sure that you stay by my side..." I mumbled, leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. He slept like the innocent cherub he was, though I noted the bruise starting to form on his cheek. I made a mental note to get him some ice for that, he probably wouldn't be happy to wake up without something to soothe his most likely numerous aches. The car trip up had been relatively smooth but he was simply getting so big! I had to stop at the edge of the road to sit him up straight again so he wouldn't get jostled around too much.

I fixed his blanket again, tucking it up under his chin and around the edges of his handsome and muscular body. _So beautiful..._ I couldn't help myself, pulling the sheet away again even after I had just fixed it. Leaning in, Alfred's scent wafted up to my nose and brought with it his own distinct smell mixed in with that sweet soap he always liked. I'd have to get him some at the store; it'd probably make him more comfortable to have a few familiar things around.

Deciding it was time to get my act together, I adjusted Alfred one last time (for sure) and reached over him to the bedside table, getting the pad of paper and a pen from the only drawer. I scrawled out a short list of things I needed to get, mainly food and products to make caring for Alfred more manageable since I knew that the cabin house never had very many supplies stored away.

Standing up again, I knew there were some follow up things I needed to do before I could rest safe here with my love. Scrunching my nose, I strutted out to the hallway phone, pulling out Alfred's cell that I had confiscated earlier so I could dial Alfred's restaurant. The tone rang a few times before a breathless and ever annoying Frenchman picked up. "Allo?"

"Yes, hello," I spoke, though my face drew into a tight expression of annoyance. "This is Arthur Kirkland, Alfred just wanted me to call you to say that he's quitting, and thus will not be coming to work anymore."

* * *

u.u Okey. you can all kill me now.

But first things first,

If you are feeling emotionally depressed and like life isn't worth living, I am probably the worst person at giving advice but please feel free to talk to me. Suicide is one of the top preventable deaths in the world, and no one should ever have to go through the pain of losing someone or feeling like they should lose themselves, especially if they feel they have to face it alone. TALK TO ME, even if I am powerless to help you very much, I will do everything in my power to help you get through.

and secondly!

I dunno if anybody cares, but the Macy's parade went really well for my band :D if you're interested, just PM me and I can tell you what to look up if you want to see. And, I was going to try posting this much much sooner but then I had finals and break and then the start of the new semester and winter guard try-outs and then a packed reading schedule for English and then my instructor gave me a solo for the show and I've been working my A-star-star off trying to make money for the summer so I can see my girlfriend and yeah. I've been a little busy, but that's no excuse. I promise to try uploading sooner.

I promise.

-shot-

Things get good after this, I promise! I have the next few scenes planned out, so I think I'll even work on them tonight!

Thank you to all of my wonderful reviewers and readers for sticking with me, even when I rarely ever update! And if you _reeeeaaaaally_ get annoyed with me just flood my inbox and I'll remember to keep working.

okey I'll shut up now.

-dies-


	15. Chapter 14: Sick

Hey all! Sorry I've been gone for such a horribly long time, school has been pretty cruel to me this semester ;n; I have a major test this week so uh, I decided it'd be a good time to write the next chapter! No worries, for all of my fans wanting RusAme, it is coming soon! There's only a little more Arthur and then you shall all have your gushy gushy fluff that is RusAme.

But for now, here's the next part!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen:** Sick

I shifted in bed for a moment, not ever wanting to leave the comfortable warmth all around me. Beds were always just so... Relaxing.

Relax... Yeah, that sounded so nice. To lose myself to the relaxing sensations of being tucked in a soft bed and nuzzled against. But something felt wrong at the same time. The body next to mine was too small, too hot, not the body I wanted...

Slowly opening my eyes, I blinked and took a very long moment to recognize the ceiling. Had I gone to bed in the living room? That was the only space in Arthur's mansion that had beams running across the ceiling. I opened my eyes wider.

This wasn't our bedroom. This wasn't Arthur's house. This wasn't...

I gasped and seized upward, then strained and floundered on the bed. I couldn't move my hands! It took a moment of useless struggling to realize I couldn't move my left foot, either.

"Help!" my scream echoed off of the wooden walls, rebounding in the small room before dissipating into the air. The person next to me shifted, roused by my desperate cry.

"Nnnh," Arthur's familiar voice groaned as he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes clear of sleep. He stared at me as I struggled for a moment longer before that familiar grin stretched over his face and revealed those yellowy-white teeth. "Ah, good morning, love."

He leaned over and kissed my lips before I could protest, then regretted his action when I bit his invading tongue. "Arthur! What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, straining and tugging against the... Handcuffs? on my wrists. I growled at his bewildered and hurt expression, having lost my patience long ago. "Untie me! Now!"

"Tut tut, Alfred," Arthur sighed, shaking his head in a what-can-you-do sort of fashion. He smiled at me and brushed my bangs out of my face even when I tried to shake my head and dodge. "No need to yell, I'll undo the cuffs when I feel you are ready. You aren't yet, by the way."

I paled slightly but shut up, my situation slowly coming clear to me. Arthur had gone off the deep end, he had really... I swallowed thickly, squirming involuntarily when he touched my face again. "A-Arthur," I tried to command, but my trembling voice lost all authority when it cracked. "Where am I."

"The cabin house," Arthur smiled, and my face scrunched when he seemed to take an unnecessary interest in my rebellious cowlick. "I've been meaning to take you up here for a while now, I just never got the opportunity. Do you like it? Ah, though I suppose I will have to wait until you're cured before I give you the grand tour, won't I?"

Questions flooded my mind so quickly I felt faint, the shock and weight of reality crushing me until I suffocated. I rattled the cuffs again, the metallic clacking proving that they weren't going to be removed for a long while. It took a long moment of Arthur caressing me and deep breathing before I could manage to choke out a quiet, "Cured of what?"

Expectedly, Arthur's face twisted with anger, his bushy eyebrows furrowing tightly together as he glared and gave my hair a sharp tug. I gasped a little, not liking the way he abused my sensitive head. "Cured of your adulterating ways, you filthy, filthy whore! I give you anything you ask and yet you threaten to leave me! What do you want, Alfred? Another cock to satisfy your sluttish needs? Pathetic."

My heart did that weird twisting thing it always did when Arthur used his more vulgar and hurtful vocabulary. I wiggled on the bed again, trying to hide myself from the source of my heartache. "Arthur, that's not what I was trying to say-"

"Then say it, Alfred!" he shouted, smacking my cheek before he grabbed my chin and forced me to stare deep into those eyes I had come to loathe. "Say you want to leave me for some other man like the greedy little bitch you are!"

"Arthur, stop this, please," I mumbled, my jaw trembling when his voice escalated in volume. Arthur glared at me for a long moment before his scowl melted into a dreamy smile. He stroked my cheek with his thumb, cupping my face as he kissed me on the lips. I didn't want to get hurt, so I just kept my mouth closed and waited for him to finish.

"Mm, I knew you weren't serious about betraying me. Isn't that right, love? You don't want to break my heart, you don't want to leave me like everyone else did, do you?" he cooed in that sickly sweet voice he always used when he babied me. I frowned and shivered, trying to get my face out of his hold. I tried a smile, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible.

"Come on, Artie... Just take the handcuffs off," I encouraged him, rattling the cuffs again to draw his attention to them. He simply smiled at me and shook his head.

"No. You aren't ready yet," he whispered in what I used to think was a sexy voice. "Do not be alarmed, Alfred. You know I will take care of you."

I seethed with rage, having just about had it with Arthur's attitude. I took a deep breath and smiled. "Yeah. Mhm. I'm hungry."

Arthur grinned widely, looking through the bedside drawers before he pulled out a box of pop-tarts. He opened one for me and held it to my lips. "It's still breakfast time, so here, have this, love."

I glared at the sweet pastry even as my stomach growled and my mouth watered. I opened my mouth, trying to eat it. I frowned after a moment. Arthur held it too far from my lips. I glared at him, horribly impatient and very annoyed. "Dude," I hissed, using the oh-so-American slang that Arthur hated. "What the fuck."

Predictably, Arthur frowned and pulled my pop-tart even further away from me. "Come now, didn't I teach you better?" It took me a very long minute to realize what he wanted me to do. Again, I swallowed my pride and felt like puking.

"Feed me," I ordered in the cutesy voice Arthur liked before opening my mouth expectantly. God, why hadn't I realized how much of an obsessive pervert he was earlier? Arthur smiled and pushed the food into my mouth.

"That's better. I guess I'll have to teach you your manners all over again, those people have been such very bad influences on you."

[-]

I lay in the bed; well-rested despite my tense back, cared for despite my situation. My stomach rumbled as I waited for Arthur to bring me something to eat for dinner. Jangling my hands in the cuffs again, I shifted and tried to get comfortable, feeling disgusting after not being allowed to shower for over a week. I was very tired of Arthur's sponge baths and hand-feedings and those goddamned _urinals_.

No... Was it already a week? That couldn't be true, Arthur would never... I sighed, unable to distract myself with the same boring wallpaper and ceiling. I had lost count of the days... Of the days I had been a captive of the person I trusted most before meeting Ivan again.

Arthur came in then, holding a bag with the In'n'Out logo on it. I sat up straighter, twisting my body around the cuffs so that they lay by my side instead of over my head. "Hello, love," Arthur smiled dreamily at me, handing the bag over. "How are you feeling today?"

I swallowed thickly, hoping he wouldn't notice my facade. "I've been so lonely, Artie, you left me alone with nothing to dooooo," I pouted cutely, wanting to shoot myself for resorting to my childish voice I used only with animals and kids. Arthur smiled, sitting next to me on the bed before he leaned over and kissed me passionately. My face stung from where he had beaten me earlier for biting him again, so I just sat back and took it, waiting for the time when I could break free. I smiled when he pulled away. He smiled back for a moment before sighing dreamily. "There we are again. See? It's not so hard to be loved, is it, Alfie dear?" he cooed, caressing my face. I leaned into his hand with my sexy smile on, wondering if maybe he wouldn't touch me anymore if I puked on him. He stroked my cheek for about a minute, just staring at my innocently smiling face before he nodded to himself and pulled away. I watched him carefully as he searched through his pockets, and then had to use all of my best acting skills to not scream with joy when he pulled out the key to the cuffs. I blinked owlishly at him, trying to appear ignorant to entice him into setting me free.

"What are you going to use that for?" I asked, shifting a little to relieve some of the pressure of the cuffs on my hands. He stared at the keys for a moment before leaning over me again, unlocking the metal. I hadn't realized how much it had bruised my wrists.

"Well, you've been very well behaved, so I thought it'd be nice to reward you, love."

I immediately pulled my hands straight to my chest, massaging my wrists and breathing deeply with my newfound freedom. Finally! I was finally so close! Now all I had to do was get my ankle unattached from the bed... I blinked at Arthur when he simply smiled at me. "Well?" I demanded, frazzled and anxious to escape from him. Arthur stared.

"Well what?"

I bit my lip, heart skipping with fear and desperation. Calm, I have to be calm! "My ankle hurts, the cuff is too tight," I complained, jiggling my foot to try proving my point. Arthur's smile took a creepy twist, and then his hands were on my shoulders, pushing me down to the bed. My eyes widened and I bit my lip harder to keep from screaming and fighting.

"Sorry, love," Arthur smiled, pressing kisses to my bruised face and chest. I squirmed, remembering how exposed I was ever since Arthur had cut away my clothes. He had been kind enough to let me keep my boxers, but they did little to protect the vast majority of my body. Was he going to...? "I want to see how you do with this before I consider freeing your leg."

I wanted to scream.

To punch him in the face.

To_ kill_ him for doing this to me.

I smiled, consciously controlling my breathing as I lay back in the sheets. "Do with what?" I asked, just watching as Arthur suckled on my bruises and nipples, arching my back at places where Arthur would expect me to.

"I want to make love to you, Alfred," Arthur breathed into my skin, kissing my collarbone as he started fondling my nipples between his somewhat-slender fingers. I bit back a moan, refusing to respond to his touches. I wiggled and then settled into the bed, lying like a corpse as Arthur caressed lower and lower on my body, eventually tugging my boxers down.

Needless to say, I had to squirm when Arthur gripped my flaccid cock, and I secretly took pride in how un-aroused I was at this point. I rolled my head to one side, fisting my hands into the sheets to stop them from clawing Arthur's eyes out. Arthur smiled up at me and I smiled back, at least until he started pumping. My jaw dropped slightly and I choked back a protesting groan, my head thumping back into the pillow Arthur had been so kind as to retrieve upon my request. "You're so beautiful, love," he dreamily sighed, and I tried not to gag. How could he think I was beautiful after he had beaten me black and blue? He stroked a little faster, and it was with despair that I felt my body begin reacting.

"Arthur," I whispered, knowing that if I raised my voice any louder I would devolve into a violent mass of curses. "Get on with it."

"Impatient, are we?" he chuckled, making me shiver with repulsion. If he keeps suggesting things like that, I really will puke on him. He smiled and kissed my lips, reaching over to the bedside drawer again. I simply laid there and watched him pull out lube, keeping my hands in the sheets to stop myself from shoving him off. How many times had he come in here to fuck me like some sex doll? How many times had I begged for him to stop, for him to leave me alone? I smiled at him when he settled down between my legs again, biting the insides of my cheeks to keep from shouting and screaming for help like I had done so many times before this.

I closed my eyes and pretended I wasn't there anymore. That I wasn't in this room, in this house, in this city... No, I was with Vanya. I pretended I was curled up on Vanya's bed, cuddling with Hero as Vanya smiled sleepily over at me while fighting to stay awake. I pretended that he had never left America, that we had grown up together visiting sunflower fields and painting pictures together. I pretended-

"Ah!" I yelped and sucked in a breath, trying not to glare at the man poised between my legs. "Can't you at least warm it up first?" I hissed dangerously, gripping the sheets with anger and discomfort as Arthur just smiled at me.

"Don't worry, love, you know that friction warms lube," Arthur smirked, licking his lips as he chuckled. "I'm going to take _very_ good care of you."

I restrained from making a biting comeback, instead just biting the inside of my cheek harder. My eyes screwed tightly shut, and I tried not to shout with hatred and anger. "You always liked being rough," I ground out, squirming and grunting as Arthur started stretching me out, thrusting his fingers in with wet _schlick schlick_ noises. A shuddering breath managed to make its way into my lungs, and I shivered and rolled my head to the side as Arthur came in to kiss me again.

"Don't you like me that way?" Arthur whispered into my ear, and as he scissored me open I desperately tried to tell him that no, I didn't like him in any way _at all_. My words of spite tried to wrestle their way out of me, only coming out as a garbled string of moans. I shivered and tried to push Arthur away, before remembering that if I struggled against him, I'd probably be bound to a headboard for at least another month. I shut my eyes and concentrated hard, knowing that if I could just get past this, I could maybe one day call for help or escape on my own. One day, I could-

"Ah!" I gasped as I felt my chest being pulled at. I squirmed and writhed in the sheets, not appreciating how well my body responded to Arthur's ministrations. My nipples hurt as he tweaked them and rolled them between my fingers, and I had to shut my eyes to try not to glare at him.

I was a quivering mess by the time his fingers left my ass. My body shuddered with unwanted pleasure, little tingles making my feet jolt and spasm with energy as my nether regions begged for more attention. Arthur chuckled above me, and if I hadn't stopped looking at him, I would have glared.

And I would have been more prepared for the mass of flesh pushing its way into my ass.

Oh, I was going to be sick.

* * *

-hides- don't hate me, I figured one detailed rape scene was enough

_anyway_

review if you enjoyed! Next chapter will hopefully be out around this time next month, as I will be out of school!


	16. Chapter 15: Better Than I Know Myself

Heeeey! I'm back with another chapter guys! Isn't that exciting? (It's exciting)

THIS IS THE LAST OF THE UKUS  
I PROMISE  
RUSAME IS COMING  
IT'S COMING, I SWEAR TO GOD

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any songs by a certain Adam Lambert, particularly Better Than I Know Myself! But yeah.

Hetalia would be more gay if I owned it

* * *

**Chapter 15: Better Than I know Myself**

I lay in bed, just staring at the ceiling over my head. After I had bitten Arthur's tongue in defiance during one of his 'love making' sessions, he'd taken to keeping a close watch on me. He reminded me every day of how thankful I should be to him for letting me keep my hands uncuffed. I turned over in the sheets, trying to hide my face when he came back in with some more store bought food.

"Have you taken a shower yet, love?" he asked me, all smiles as he set the food down on the bedside table. I remained quiet for a moment, listening to him breathe as he waited my response. I grunted.

"Not yet. The water takes so long to warm up, I get bored," I tell him casually, my relaxed voice lacking most indications of emotion. He sighed.

"You're starting to smell. The sheets are all dirty, too. After supper you should take a shower, and I'll wash them in the meantime."

Our routine, which used to be me just wasting my days away waiting for him and volunteering and giving back to my community as I tried to avoid his drunken rampages had dulled into a boring cycle of small talk and bad food, of awkward silences and painful nights. I smiled.

"Yeah. What's dinner?"

"Sandwiches."

"Got me a tuna?" I ask, rolling over to face him as I sat up. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, the long chain connected to my ankle rattling as it was forcibly moved. Arthur chuckled, handing me a simply-wrapped meal.

"Your favorite."

I ate my meal quietly as Arthur ran his fingers through my hair, stroking my head and giving me a little massage. I had to admit. It felt pretty nice.

"Alright, finish that up now," he smiled at me, not letting me do so by sealing my lips with his. I lifted my head up to meet his, tilting it slightly to let him deepen our kiss. He eagerly did so, and after a moment I found myself pushed down into the bed. I smiled up at him, stroking his face as he grinned down at me. "Oh? Are you still hungry, love?"

I smiled, fisting my hands in his shirt before pulling him down on top of me.

-(0)-

"Hey," I muttered as he lazily kissed and suckled my neck, the room hot and musky with the smell of sex. He hummed in acknowledgment, breathing hotly over my reddened flesh. I swallowed a little. "Grab my iPod, please?"

He didn't move for a long moment and then grumbled and sat up, moving over to the drawer. He rummaged through the few meager belongings of mine that he had been thoughtful enough to bring. My glasses, my favorite book, my best headphones and my iPod, the little figurine I had purchased from Disneyland when we had gone there together. He had pointedly forgotten the only thing I really wanted, though. He pulled out my iPod, handing it to me.

"Thanks," I mumble, scrolling through the songs as I put my earbuds in. He went back to cuddling with me as I settled down, staring up at the ceiling. It was blissfully peaceful, and I couldn't help but be sent back to when our relationship was near perfect. I closed my eyes, and grumbled when Arthur's poking made me open them again. "What?"

"What are you listening to?"

I sighed, pulling the only working earbud out from where I had nestled it. "Music," I huffed, sticking it back into my ear as the next song on shuffle started up. I seethed in a breath when he yanked it back out.

"Let me listen too."

I sighed, sitting up a little to get comfortable as Arthur wrapped his arms around my chest. Tugging the headphone jack out, my eyes wandered down to that mop of butter blond hair nuzzling into my side. Gently placing my hand on his head, I restarted the song and pressed play.

_Cold as ice, and more bitter than a December winter night,_

_That's how I treated you._

_And I know that I sometimes tend to lose my temper, and I cross the line..._

Arthur stiffened next to me, and my fingers slowly started to comb through his hair. He started to hum the melody we had listened to many times before, his voice shaking and cracking in his throat as he slowly built up force, words leaving his mouth where they belonged in the music, filling the air with something real and there and oh so very...

_All along, I tried to pretend it didn't matter if I was alone, but deep down I know,_

_If you were gone for even a day I wouldn't know which way to turn,_

'_Cause I'm lost without you..._

"I know it gets hard sometimes," I added in quietly, stroking Arthur's hair as he shifted to look up at me, our eyes meeting as the music played around us. "But I could never... Leave your side, no matter what I say-"

We mouthed the chorus, just watching each other and holding each other on a level that was all our own. No one else but us. This was our moment, this was our chance, this was our song. We were stuck, lost in our trance and lost in our situation and lost in our bruised and battered relationship.

"I get kind of dark," I whispered, closing my eyes to block out the light and immerse myself in the feel of the music. "Let it go too far... I can be obnoxious at times, but try and see my heart..."

"'Cause I need you now, so don't let me down... You're the only thing in this world," Arthur joined in, and I opened my eyes as we breathed the ending together. "I would die without."

'_Cause if I wanted to go, I would've gone by now but I really need you near me to keep my mind off the edge..._

_If I wanted to leave, I would've left by now but you're the only one that knows me..._

_Better than I know myself..._

"... Arthur?"

"Yes, love...?"

I looked down at the man I had been with for however many years now, the man I lived with and cared for and loved. "I'll... I'll stay. No questions, no fighting, nothing... I'll do whatever you want, whenever you want it... But there's just one thing I'd like you to do for me."

Arthur watched me for a long, skeptical moment, and then nodded with a small smile.

"And what might that be, love?"

-(1)-

"And you're sure you'll be alright?" Arthur fretted, fixing his belt and vest as I sat on the edge of the bed, smiling reassuringly.

"Yeah yeah, I'll be just fine. Got all the food and stuff I need to last the day."

"Well... The drive to LA and back will be very long," Arthur murmured, coming up to me. He caressed my cheeks, pressing his body close as he stared down at me. "Sixteen hours almost... Can't I just buy you a new-"

"No!" I shouted firmly, eyes narrowed into a glare before I checked myself, closing my mouth and bowing my head submissively. "There's a drawing in that book that I want to keep... I never finished it. Please? Just bring me the sketchbook, I'll be waiting right here."

Arthur looked down at me, and my smile wavered back in place as I chanced a look up at him. Silence surrounded us and I swallowed thickly, almost able to taste the tension around me.

-(2)-

"A-ah!" I gasped, rocketing back to reality that left my head reeling in a body-crushing pain. With a groan, I attempted rolling onto my side, the ankle chain clinking as I shifted my foot. Taking in a few shuddering breaths, I opened one eye in a tight squint, trying to look at my surroundings as the minimal lighting danced on the floor. I blinked slowly, just listening to the silence as I struggled to control my breathing.

I sat up in what felt like slow motion, my mind hazy and fuzzy and everything was so blurry and I just...

My ear ached with the reverberating _whump_, and I was left winded again upon impact with the hard mattress. Dragging my hand up to cover my eyes felt like trying to drag a thousand pound weight across a football field, but the sensations slowly started to dwindle as I adjusted to being awake again. Doing my best to ignore the throbbing in my head, I sat up again, using my free hand to steady myself. It took me a moment to realize that I was swaying in place, my vision tilting and sliding and refusing to let me focus. Numb and aching, I croaked out a tiny whimper, eyes straining to see the room as it swirled around me. "A-Arth-ur-?"

I let myself waver sitting up, trying to blink away the chemical sleepiness in my eyes as I waited for my ex-boyfriend to come running to my aide.

I waited.

And waited.

My vision started to clear as a thought pushed its way to the front of my mind.

Arthur wasn't here.

"It worked," I breathed, and then I slowly started stand up, blood rushing back down into my legs. I groaned, and then took a step, and then another, my limbs refusing to be very cooperative. Staggering to the door, my chest constricted with laughter. Free! I would finally be free!

The chain rattled as I gained momentum, and then I tripped, the strong metal refusing to let me go further than a foot outside of the door. The cold ground rushed to meet me, and I was left winded again. My white shirt bunched around my hips and the most disgustingly rotten feeling filled me as I was left bare and shaking.

"No."

No no no no no!

No! I couldn't stop now! I was so close! Arthur was out of the house, he'd be gone for who knows how much longer, this was my one chance! If I could only get to a phone...!

I looked up from where I was part-way sprawled into the hallway, looking both directions before I saw it. The little table with an innocently perched telephone. My body instantly rejected how fast I sat up, but I steadied myself and then tried to push forward, wriggling on the floor as I desperately struggled to pull myself closer. The chains strained but would not give no matter how much I pulled and tugged and pleaded with all of the other worldly powers to please, just let me go!

Collapsing on the floor, my whole body shuddering, I felt pathetic. How could this happen to me? How the hell did I end up in this mess? What had I done wrong? What did I do to deserve being locked up in a cage only labeled 'love'? My face felt hot and the floor beneath my eyes started to get wet as little splashes of sadness escaped.

I couldn't give up.

I can't.

Not then, not now, not ever.

I had to get out of here.

With renewed determination and a clearer mind, I sat up and checked myself. There wasn't anything nearly long enough to reach the phone, and even if there was I'd probably only know the phone off of its charger instead of hitting it to me. I stood up and grumbled, searching through the room as adrenaline started to wake up my sore and drugged body. Really, where was Arthur getting that stuff?

"No, don't get distracted," I scolded myself, shaking my head. "Gotta focus. I need that phone, now how do I get to it..."

The chain rattled as it trailed behind me, slithering across the floor like a snake as I searched every nook and cranny of the small room to try to find something even remotely useful. I was so done. I was done with all of this shit. I just wanted to live my life, live the way I wanted to live and do the things I wanted to do and love somebody and be loved back.

This was not the life I wanted, and there was no way in hell I would settle for it.

"God, but what's the point?" I shouted as I flopped onto the bed with a _whump_, the chain rattling again. "I get good food, sex whenever I want it I guess, a roof over my head, as much sleep as I want... Arthur is getting my sketchbook; he's going to give me everything I need... Why am I fighting this so much?"

A tear wet my cheek, and I couldn't hold them in any longer.

I hated myself! I hated Arthur, I hated this house, I hated the years I had wasted loving him! I hated everything! I couldn't take this! I couldn't live like this!

I sat up again, openly sobbing into my hands as I curled up in a little ball, the ankle cuff clinking as I moved my foot.

This was it.

I was stuck, with no way out.

I was chained to this bed, to this house, to this relationship, to Arthur.

There was no escape.

I couldn't leave. Try all I'd like, but there was no way to reach out and break free. Help was too far away.

The chain rattled again as I hit the sheets in frustration, my body heavy with the magnitude of my loss. I had lost. Lost hope, lost love, lost myself. I was nothing now, nothing but an empty shell that could be fed and cleaned and fucked.

My eyes dried up and I resigned myself to my fate, taking hold of the metal links to run my fingers over my unbreakable bond. I stared at the silver chain, turning it over in my hands before a thought occurred to me. Scrabbling out of bed in a sudden flurry of motion, I gripped the chain and pulled, running for the doorway. The chain pulled taut and then wavered in the air as I strained, desperately pulling with all of my weight and my force and my strength and my determination to _get the hell out of here!_

"Ah!" I yelped, stumbling back a step when the bed started to move, creaking against the old wooden floor as I dragged it from its resting place. I almost started crying again. "Yes, yes, yes!" I cheered, pulling harder with each chant as the bed scraped the floorboards and moved toward the door, letting me out! I scrambled to go further, faster, until the queen sized bed was straining against the doorframe. I dropped the chain to the ground and then started to run down the hall, my shoulders straining from the sudden effort. The phone seemed to glitter and sparkle like every hope and dream had settled into a fine cloud around it.

_Bam!_ I hit the floor, the chain pulled taut again as it reached its maximum length. I sat up quickly, gaping at the table that was just out of reach.

"No!" I screamed, my shout echoing off of the walls as I reached up for the phone, my hand just barely grazing the top of the table. " No no no! Fuck!"

I started to cry, crushed in my last desperate attempt. It was just out of reach!

"Why?!" I shrieked, hitting the walls and the floor before covering my head and sobbing into the ground, tortured from the teasing and flitting sense of hope that had come and gone so many times now. I looked up, and then stretched as far as I could, my broken sobs barely heard as I gripped the legs of the table. I blinked and then grunted, awkwardly struggling to tip the wood furniture over. The lamp shattered and something hit the back of my head with a manageable amount of force. I looked up, and then sucked in the biggest breath I could have inhaled, tears coursing down my cheeks as I snatched the phone up and shakily dialed a number as fast as I could.

The phone rang for what seemed like an eternity, a horrifying buzz in my ear.

"Allo, La Pasta Vita, 'ow may I 'elp you?" Francis' flamboyant and ever-cheerful voice picked up. I choked back a gleeful sob, shuddering. I tried to collect myself, my chest fluttering and aching with joy. "Allo?"

"Fr-Francis," I whimpered, and then started to cry again as Francis gasped on the other line.

"Cher? Alfred?!" he gasped hurriedly with shock and surprise. "Where 'ave you been?"

"Francis... I-I need help."

-(3)-

"Listen here you wanker!" A voice shouted at my boss, and I straightened from the ditch I stood in, hefting my pick ax over my shoulder to watch the butter blond scream curses. "I need to get home, right now!"

"Listen, the signs have been up for weeks that construction would be done here," my boss explained to the raging little man as the short blond sprang out of his car.

"I don't give a bloody fuck in hell, clear the bloody road!"

"Is there problem?" I asked as I walked up, laying on my accent thick to appear more intimidating. I adjusted my scarf and stared down at the oddly familiar face glaring at me.

"Yes there is a problem, I have someone waiting at home and I need to get past!"

I blinked, and then realized who it was.

"Ah, oopsie," I giggled, smiling cheekily as my pick ax slid into the hood of his car, easily going straight through the metal covering. The irritated man screamed but I didn't listen as sparks started to snap out around my ax. My boss gaped, and then I grinned at the man. Gripping his arm, I leaned in close and stared straight into his shocked green eyes.

"This is for Alfie."

* * *

:D

yay! Vanya has reappeared! Did you like that? You should tell me in a review!

or just give me a rating on a scale of 1-5, 5 being the best!

And it's come to my attention that some people don't like it when I write in first person, so, show of hands of who would like it better in 3rd or if it should stay the same?


End file.
